Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gold Medal, artist - Yo Gotti. Date of issue: 19.11.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Gold Medal |
| It’s award season again |
| I mean we gon' keep winning and taking all these trophies home |
| I don’t see no real contenders |
| Nigga I should win a trophy |
| Platinum wrist with the cola |
| I should get a gold medal |
| Can’t nobody cook it better |
| I show you how to whip the yola |
| I show you how to whip the yola |
| I show you how to whip the yola |
| I show you how to whip the yola |
| I show you how to get some extras |
| Nigga I can bless you |
| Two bricks and a half, I got the kitchen under pressure |
| Take it out to war, all white that’s the texture |
| This shit just like a drive-thru, when you pull up may I help you? |
| Eyes on the camera, guns on the counter |
| Guerrillas with them choppas and they all got them bananas |
| Ran out of rubber bands then fucked up all the counters |
| Fucking count it half a hand, give me the pack and I’m a down him |
| It jumping out the gym, call it trap-oline yayo |
| How you a dope boy when you never seen yayo? |
| Ever since I was a kid boy I use to dream yayo |
| It’s me and Snootie Wild and they call us team yayo |
| On the stove with the egg beater, whipping Jason Jeter |
| I can show you how to mix the yellow water make it ether |
| Longway Lulu got your bricks we break em down to deuces |
| Cinnamon buns on the hand guns empty goin' |
| Send the pack to Memphis and we workin' out the bitches |
| and red, crash mans got it in the trenches |
| Workin' my wrist whippin' up my credentials |
| it be white like the dentures |
| Pocket monster cruisn' in the |
| Blood on blood, this side get fucked |
| The money count, I just keep countin' |
| and Yo Gotti gon' count it |
| 200 bands and we dab in Cavalli |
| Mother fucker tell them send a deposit |
| So don’t show we pull up in Bentley’s and Masi’s |
| we be tippin' the pilot |
| G5 with a beat in the pocket |