| Bet a lot of pussy niggas wanna murder Brasi
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| Boulevard, Mar-a-Lago and a Maserati
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| Boobie Black, Gunna, and Menace still will catch a body
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| And if you fuck around with Rayzor, bitch I’m out my body
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| Sideways, skrrt, coupe be out my body
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| Whole clique pull up in 'Vettes, bitch we out our body
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| And you ever disrespect it, then it’s kamikaze
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| I just be with me a shooter like I’m John Gotti
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| I feel like John Gotti, John Gotti
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| 'Cause it ain’t shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti
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| It ain’t shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti
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| My cousin CJ tryna to hit me with a brick of raw
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| In Alexandria, it’s nothing for to get it gone
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| With music, I ain’t won awards, but I kept it gangster
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| Gon' be a god in New Orleans like that nigga Daymond
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| Landlord in the south like my nigga Lucci
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| Corvette in front of David Ways screeching free Lee Lucas
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| Fuck that nigga bitch, I got her saying free Lee Lucas
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| Beeto and Bryan bitch, I just got off the phone with em
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| My old friends hating, sending me the wrong signals
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| My dawg recorded conversations, man what’s wrong with him?
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| You got them college niggas fooled, I be with stone killers
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| Bet a lot of pussy niggas wanna murder Brasi
|
| Boulevard, Mar-a-Lago and a Maserati
|
| Boobie Black, Gunna, and Menace still will catch a body
|
| And if you fuck around with Rayzor, bitch I’m out my body
|
| Sideways, skrrt, coupe be out my body
|
| Whole clique pull up in 'Vettes, bitch we out our body
|
| And you ever disrespect it, then it’s kamikaze
|
| I just be with me a shooter like I’m John Gotti
|
| I feel like John Gotti, John Gotti
|
| 'Cause it ain’t shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti
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| It ain’t shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti
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| Praise to Allah, I was born a god, with the murder game I’m righteous
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| Cancel shows just for Rayzor wedding, I don’t know another just like it
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| I love Bunker, but despite the love, I don’t know what made him dislike it
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| But me and Gunna in the Porsche truck and we screeching off like lightning
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| Fast, doing the dash, your bitch on my ass, she want me to smash
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| Flip out and flash, I’d rather get cash
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| Dreka she bad and she into bags
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| Up in the Louis, Emilio Pucci
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| I tell 'em it’s Gucci when they want them bands
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| I got them racks and no longer wear jewelry
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| 'Cause I’m bout my business, and back selling sand
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| I don’t get tired
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| I’m 'bout my business, and back selling sand
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| I’m 'bout my business, and back selling sand
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| (I'm 'bout my business, and back selling sand
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| I’m 'bout my business, and back selling sand)
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| Bet a lot of pussy niggas wanna murder Brasi
|
| Boulevard, Mar-a-Lago and a Maserati
|
| Boobie Black, Gunna, and Menace still will catch a body
|
| And if you fuck around with Rayzor, bitch I’m out my body
|
| Sideways, skrrt, coupe be out my body
|
| Whole clique pull up in 'Vettes, bitch we out our body
|
| And you ever disrespect it, then it’s kamikaze
|
| I just be with me a shooter like I’m John Gotti
|
| I feel like John Gotti, John Gotti
|
| 'Cause it ain’t shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti
|
| It ain’t shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song John Gotti , by - Kevin Gates. Song from the album Luca Brasi 2: Gangsta Grillz, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп