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Artist: Yo Gotti f/ T.I.
Album:  I Am
Song:   King Shit
Typed by: Cedmaster3K

[Yo Gotti]
Hah! Aw this a hit nigga
With no words on it, hah..

I got on +2 Chainz+, but no I ain't Tity Boi
I'm dream chasin', but I ain't from Philly boy
Bitch bad, and she said that I can get it boy
This a hit and I'mma make a nigga feel it boy
My flow on range, my swagís insane and my campaign on ten
I like the bitch, she down to fuck, but I'm really into her friend (yup~!)
House up on the hill, got it off of cocaine
Aventador Lamborghini, condo off of Biscayne
Bitch I'm in my lane, fresh as hell, no stains
Robin jeans with the stones, Giuseppe manís my chain
Iím different, I was built for this, my bitch only rock Tiffany
You rat, youíll sing a symphony and Iím back, city been missin' me
My watch silly, my clock ignorant and I'm the king of my city
I'm banned up and I ain't in a band but my flow just like an instrument
Bass, feel that, yellow tape of the trizack
Hatin' is a disease, pussy where they do that? 
Hah! (Chyeah! L.A. Reid cut that check for me!)

King shit (uh-huh) and you know what it is (uh-huh)
Shawty smell like a pound of that loud, but a nigga look like a hundred mill (yup)
But I drive Ferrari, fuck the motherfuckin dealer
Pay 10 million for a mansion, that worth more than your opinion
I got racks all in my cargo pants, standard clip with that hollow man
Yo' bitch ass if yo bitch bad, she get fucked fast, ainít no romance
My diamond dancin' in 3D, NIGGA; like a vegas strip when you see me, NIGGA
Your money wrong and my money long and I'm playing with it like PE, NIGGA
Real nigga no joke, donít think there nigga no ho
I got mini Mac-10 and a 100 round drum in the carpet up under my car
And nigga I donít wanna smoke your weed, plain gas the only thing I smoke
And I gotta thank God for the niggas off Bankhead, shawty, they taught me everything I know
Like, how to whip it (whip it), cook it cut it dip it (dip it)
Hand it to your partner, let it flood it to the city
Really, we 'bout that action, you try us and we blastin'
We turnt to the max, thatís a motherfuckin' fact, I'm a real nigga, fuck these rappers (ay)

[Chorus: Yo Gotti]
Door up, doors down
When Iím in the club, bitch it's going down
Shawty thick as fuck, hand down
Hands up, pants down
Down, down, shawty fuckin' head down
I see my phone blowin' up, I know itís going down
Once I busted at the rapper, then it hit the town (town)
Check the numbers in the city, boy it going down

[Yo Gotti]
This that dope boy academy, them three letters been after me (who?)
F.B.I. ever catchin me, my family might witness a tragedy
Shorty open her legs up happily, I ball hard like an athlete (true)
Young black nigga in a big white phantom, nigga, I look like a referee (hey)
They blowing the whistle they tellin (tellin), I do the clam I'm chillin (chillin)
This bitch turned up makin' rain when I'm in the club you yellin
They talk about these Bentley's that I'm gettin on the daily
One feet in the game and one feet out, swear I barely made it
I'ma real nigga till the death of me (I am), never sing a song like a parakeet
50 bandz in my pocket just blew 60 grand on that Cherokee (beep~!)
I be, gettin, money, like a, mother, fuckin, Brinx, trunk
Standin', in the, kitchen, nigga, tryin' to, whip a, brick, up, hah!

{Yup~!} +I Am+ {Yup~!}
L.A. Reid cut that check for me...
Tell the streets cut that check for me...