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Correct Geechi Gotti Vs. Rum Nitty Lyrics
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Correct Geechi Gotti Vs. Rum Nitty
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[Round 1: Geechi Gotti] Nigga you'se a bitch You ain't really 'bout that life Crip You just a wannabe, man on some dyke shit Chest open, soon as the knife fit, it's turning into a slaughter Cause now I got his heart on the blade like I'm pimpin' his daughter Get him some water, he lookin' mad mad Potato on the barrel, he gettin' hash tagged Yo' ass trash, and my .38 Special like the first kiss Spine shot, back out from the Iron on some Surf shit Speakin' of Tsu, that nigga let you live I told cuz on the turf you trippin' Keepin' you breathin' was his worst decision Matter of fact, baow, now there go that third round Surf was missin' Boy you trippin', you know I'ma shit starter Headshot he leakin', then my bitch spark him Cause lil' baby gunner make him drip harder I Crip harder, with two Glocks, get ya boo shot You the leader of the crew? BAOW, it was a casket, 'til I put a quarter in it, now it's a jukebox Nigga who hot? You only put me on the clique cause you know I'm a shit starter The Loc make the clique harder Headshot, now you see his face on both sides, he a trick Quarter Bro I'm Vince Carter, I came in the league bangin' Baow, and I'ma shoot 'til the body drop And like the phone when the call is blocked, I let it keep ringin' The heat bangin' On Crip I was gonna star dawg, I ain't even let 'em all off But the reporter said bro took 15 shots, guess he a ball hog Fuck all y'all, nigga who got next? This round went over the head like it was too complex But he's so muhfuckin' short it's easy to miss I ain't even think of that, since that bitch went over the top, I had to bring it back This nigga wack You stole Tay Roc's style, took gun bars called it a "gun line", it's plain to see No gray area, black and white like the one time So bein' called his son, that shit not gon' stop I used to sell fake dope to fiends This ain't my first time havin' to serve a knock off Roc The chopper knock off blocks It's gon' feel like a missile was sent Code word: Ya daddy don't love you [Coffee Brown] Fuck does that mean? [Geechi] This pops ain't gonna miss you for shit Man you a bitch, you better watch ya words Shit can get tragic tonight You can literally die over a gun line like the faggot in Life I'm packin' tonight, extendo Man it's hard to keep the gun tucked Dick swingin' like nunchuck Tell ya lady "Don't run up", she get a gun butt And I ain't gotta explain why I hit a nigga bitch, I ain't Young Buck You a dumb fuck Get shot in ya face for frontin' Try to run you hear that {gun cocking} uh uh, Jason comin' You great wit' punchin' I ain't a Nitty fan Two straps, baow, baow, them kill shots ain't from the Henny man The semi blam, was supposed to kill you in London They would've had the funeral out in AZ, after I get rid of Rum Cause homies'll pour it (homie's a Poet); KG Aye G, I don't even think he a Crip it's just something about you Headshot, he wanna hood hop, I can see the Blood comin' up out you Nigga I asked yo' bitch what that mouth do Then I stuck a revolver in her pussy She'll blew her walls off the hinges Found out a lot about her, had my nose all in her business Nigga, speakin' of business, when you talkin' 'bout money I know that you fakin' Rum Man, battle rap really know you gettin' paid in crumbs Come to think, you can't even afford a drink I know what ya makin' (Jamaican) Rum Talkin' all this doe, but you wanna rock knock off kicks though All this cash but fake J's what this fag cop; Carl Winslow What it hit fo'? I'm from Compton, fuck yo' city Nigga my state harder, we barely even claim you, you only half West like 'Ye daughter Every time somebody bring up Crip you go like this Who you think you scarin' with that? I'm airin' the strap Yeah Gotti got bundles, that's how I could split this bitch wig with the hair still attached And when it's real, y'all can tell Y'all can see it in they eyes Go 'head Rum see if they believe them lies [Round 1: Rum Nitty] Now this shit wasn't up to me, I kinda feel like you tricked me To battle someone from the team We supposed to be in London, fuck you mean? I knew I wouldn't make it though, I never put nothin' overseas (over C's) We got Rum Nitty vs Bae Bae Loc AKA Geechi Gotti, this is grade A smoke I'm finna wig on you, all the way ready for static If I catch you in traffic, I'ma lift (Lyft) on you, wait outside ya crib for you For them comments I'ma post up with a short clip, I gotta gift (gif) for you No game we clap op', couple throwaways Ain't shit on my name the strap hot Grab the K with the blade attached, watch Put the blade in yo' top, now it's a knife stickin' outta Bae in that (bayonet) spot That's how we pushin' though Applyin' pressure, 'til they applyin' pressure...on a bullet hole Your blood will pour from that, God You gonna need tourniquets, bandages, gauze This shit is more than rap, it's dirty in the game I Am Legend, I Will put my own dawg to sleep, don't worry 'bout a thing Sturdy when I aim 100 buck, you get 77, I made a currency exchange Don't fuck wit' us, plus I got some cheap overseas killers that run wit' us For like 30 yens, euros, pounds, they'll rush niggas Take his gun, stick a 30 in your old pound now it buck different Fuck nigga, we can scrap fam' Fast hands, crash land, catchin' wreck like a dash cam' Masked man, squeeze and BANG See his brain wave in the machine, it's a CAT SCAN Come and try, but I'm the one, they send niggas to when they wanna die I told Ill, it's like a car in London how that shotgun left Will (wheel) right What a line Same shotgun and you starin' (steering) from the other side BAOW If the contract states we not allowed to hurt him I disobey y'all (Ja) Rule, Gotti know I only sign for Murder Blue flag, wrapped around a G lot Cause no prints can keep you outta a cell, it's like a screen lock Whole team, they soft, pull the biggest shift Nah scratch that, the little grip for the Mafia, I'm DJ Paul I unload, fast as a Marine, I'm so focused Then empty out, then add in a magazine in a pro motion 30 popper, I'm finna murder patna These .50 FN shots ain't Curtis vodka I do it how the dope smugglers do it, cause every trip I'ma stay in my bag Just get accustomed to it Bitch, you can't keep it real yourself Nigga suicide or I'll do the job You decide, kill yourself [Round 2: Geechi Gotti] They say my rounds be too real, you can really feel what I'm talkin' about Back of the head with the shot, least now he got some real rounds comin' out ya mouth Cuz know what I'm about, revolver, nose look like a foot long Beatin' yo' ass all battle, shit finna feel like a put on Speakin' of foot on, lookin' at ya background it's time for a check All them punches, but you prolly never even had a fight in a set I got my respect, cause niggas know I'm not a rapper, I'm a Crip All I roll wit' is gangstas I'll catch him slippin' in traffic and leave Rum spilled all over the whip, shit I could've got arrested for a open container Bro you a hater, get ya crew wet Two straps, singin' together, it's a duet Hit you and ya niggas at the same time, shit these is group texts Nigga you blessed I put my MAC down and let bullets from the .9 get sent You survive this shit, then it's Return Of The Mack, it's a 90's hit Grimy shit, in the hood where all my time gets spent I'm on the block airin' niggas shit out like it's my time to vent Nigga .9's get lift, put a lot on his mind, he a heavy thinker All they gon' say is, "Rum gone and Gotti killed him." Shit I'ma heavy drinker Ya girl a tweeker, for that crystal ball she'll do whatever fool Yo Smack them deposits is straight, but servin' this bitch meth was the better move So when you ain't around, I slip her (slipper) glass; Cinderella shoes Nigga I'ma fool You don't wanna get silly wit' me Buck 50, going straight to the point, I'm just gettin' down to the Nitty gritty I'm in Arizona, yeah I'm ridin' through Nitty's city Bang bang, titty titty, headshots, see somethin' come off the top, oh this nigga witty Nigga really? KG the only one think he a rider We can shoot it out or we can go wit' the hands Y'all will see Rum get mixed up somethin' sweet, now he a pina colada Me? I'ma slaughter, you don't wanna live like this My shit reckless, I skipped breakfast That just mean scratch the serial (cereal) guns what I'm talkin' This .9 ain't got an owner This bitch an orphan nigga Get ya coffin, please believe this punk dyin' Baow, get gun butted, even though I'm loaded I'm still whippin'; drunk drivin' Nigga fuck lyin', I don't even wanna hear gun bars from a nigga who ain't shot shit .40 on me, the clip longer than Bigg K block list I'm from Nitty Blocc Crip You from Insane? Stop it dawg, baow, oh yeah from he from Insane, cause he ain't got it all Nigga knock it off They told me, Don't Be A Menace, but I still showed up to his spot like, "Do we got a problem fool?" .50 still bangin' on the porch like Bartholomew Nigga I'ma fool and this nigga Nitty know what it is I'll bring this house and straight go at his kids Side shot, just had to go at his ribs And when it's real, niggas can tell Y'all can see it his eyes And when it's yo' turn see if you can make niggas believe them lies Nigga time [Round 2: Rum Nitty] So this who y'all brought to take out Nitty? How nigga? He can't out punch or out spit me Fuck he gonna out Crip me? I doubt really This ain't an even playing field, I'm serious I give niggas that, he ain't even playin' feel He the Champion though, I can't even hate on skills You had a good year, now you need to make a will Free smoke season, that's headshots for no reason This fo' I don't Let Go, the En Vogue treatment Ya soul leavin', we ain't make London but you'll still be an RIP tat' in Old English I catch ya bitch in traffic, she'll get popped nigga I'll pull a white 'Lac, next to ya baby lane like 'Pac killer Glocks wit' us, I feel like I'm not alone with the arm like Gothika Block bender, bang on an op' nigga Trap full of German chop and K SWATS stickers (swastikas) Whole squad tryin' to do you, really bangin' There be signs everywhere, you thinkin' God talkin' to you Everyone on the scene get it, piece grippin' The .30 clip lickin' longer than Gene Simmons Who you beat nigga? You showed Suge a (sugar) high level but you let Glue' coast (glucose) through you, you'se a sweet nigga You gon' clip who? Bitch move The Sig' shoot from three feet when the kid pool Big tool, get ya bitch blew (blue) Make her say "Ahh", and then she ate it (initiated), now she Crip too You think this nigga nice? Be don't even be black and equal and you expect me to act civil, right Steal his life, out in London with the biggest pint, y'all picked this fight And so y'all got me flashin' on a British night (Knight) Get replaced by Gotti? Please, stop it You nice, but I'm Poseidon, this some shit they gotta see (god at sea) Two Glocks out, one hold 17 and it's 23 in one Gon' get me locked down, I'm talkin' hostile But I can back it up with a MAC like iCloud It's just love taps when I'm punchin' on y'all But for anything over 3Gs, the gloves can come off Something concealed in the pants tucked, couldn't tell I had one Til I pull a shotgun outta nowhere, random That nigga Suge so fuckin' trash, y'all promote him though Tweetin' like he wanna get in the ring, I know he don't He must be high, y'all gon' have to give Shotgun mouth to mouth for blowin' smoke Bitch, you can't keep it real yourself Nigga suicide or I'll do the job You decide, kill yourself [Round 3: Geechi Gotti] I'm a trap star I can get you anything from half to a whole P deal Got fiends comin' back for the white, you would think the Coke have free refills Nigga when we chill, all the Crips with me, we in the C section If he flexin', somebody bound to get murked, 'matics will squirt You will see a body comin' out the box like a natural birth You look like a Smurf, and everything soft's what you remind me of They say however you come is how you go and they ain't lyin' cuz You came out a pussy and now you die in (dyin') one Try me son, the last nigga to test my gangsta, pass You do the math, yo' life as scary as mine The only thing I learned in school was how to carry a .9 Nigga we both gang bang, so we know it's some stupid shit I started 'round 12, I was just a foolish kid Seen plenty niggas die young, whether it's the Glock or the Ruger spittin' It's fucked up how niggas families gotta miss 'em, cause them bullets didn't Nigga who you kiddin'? Y'all know it's cold outside Somebody get him a sweater for the chopper Separate his head from his neck, docs gon' have to knit him (Nitty) together Nigga get it together, I'm tired of hearin' gun bars I wanna see these niggas really pull triggers I swear to God, these niggas backgrounds be faker than school pictures You niggas, know I can teach you all about straps Llamas and TECs, where I'm from, only thing I can guarantee is murder Cause I was taught the only thing promised is death Nigga on my mama you blessed Cause bro you still breathin' My partna got a headshot, he vegetable status They didn't even pull the plug, he literally still, breathin' It's kill season If you ain't live like this, then them bars not relateable I'm talkin' 'bout yellow tape, flesh but the soul not available Seein' a mama in the corner argue over the body, that's not debatable Nigga real life, you rap niggas the type to cry cause y'all heard Beanie Sigel got shot, witcha fake ass Where I'm from, a beanie with some holes in it was just a face mask I'm masked up, with a point to prove Walkin' around with so much metal on my hip, you would think I got my joints removed I had to remove myself from the fake As a kid I ain't have a lot of hobbies I remember they said, "Boy go get a life." Til I went and caught a body Nigga you can't talk to Gotti, bitch I do the talkin' to And I don't think he official If my lady catch me laid up with a ratchet she ain't trippin', she know I sleep wit' a pistol Nigga, beef what I'm into Thankin' God I ain't died yet You ever had to talk to a mother like, "Yo, your son just died." And she look at you like, "Well nigga why you ain't ride yet?" The streets will make a mother's love cold and it's sad to say She don't even give a fuck who killed her son she tryin' to figure out who gon' retaliate These true stories, type of shit you can't exaggerate This the school of hard knocks, jail and death is how you graduate I'm glad you hate, I'm just teachin' niggas stories about a dangerous life These niggas out here trippin' like, "Y'all seen Kanye's sellin' out to Trump?" That's crazy, right? Well not to me, since a kid I always knew 'Ye (yay') was white Nigga, aye it's light My partna grandma told him, "Chill. Boy you better slow down and get ya head right." That advice hunt her old ass to this day, her baby got killed at a red light Where I'm from, homicide, man that shit is mandatory The shit I seen as a kid will have you traumatized They hate you when you up, so that moment when you kinda rise The niggas watchin' become saltier than McDonald's fries I ain't gotta lie I really had to pull pistols on niggas that I love You ever had them problems? Shot a nigga, seen his mama, still asked her 'bout him? Then when she asked you, "What happened?" You gotta make up stories when she say who got him It's fucked up but most niggas would be dyin' inside But I learned to live with it like Magic Johnson Nigga Magnum's poppin', whoever you came wit', I got a gat for And that mean everybody get a round of fire (around the fire), we're tellin' camp stories Relax shorty, I've been shot, I can still feel the pain from it The shoot outs, we got our name from it I should've took the good route, instead I took the hood route Got a bullet in me now, I'm just too lazy to get it took out Nigga look out, don't be mentioning me This chopper will flip a Quarter, bitch you wanna kick or receive? You dealin' wit' a nigga that'll really fuck you up Stomach shot, they like, "He can't be Crip. This Blood he was chuckin' up." And when it's real, y'all can tell, y'all can see it in they eyes Yo' turn, see if you can make niggas believe them lies Nigga time [Round 3: Rum Nitty] We got serial killer Geechi Gotti This nigga got bodies on bodies on BODIES Mo' bodies than Mozzi, mo'- nigga you'se a bitch If I send her through, it's too catch you off guard, that's how you use a bitch Crucial shit, fuck what crew I'm wit' Why jump him? I catch him by myself I could use a pick Raise the straps, so you can set it up, and on tape I'm gonna give Bae the MAC's (Betamax) Leave a nigga stuck, stretched wit' it And anyone else on that VS get it, with the little pump Send my cut and I tell you now, I'm only gon' fly down and zip shit up Please push me, pussy I won't go peacefully 100 shots, the piece fully I reach, pull it, clap some, give you half up front like a league booked it I up the tool, long barrel Got you starin' down the whole round, it's nothin' new The fuck is you? He gets to soul sendin', pull up pole grippin' Hop out, point on his block like he goal tendin' This gon' be a hard pill to swallow like gold member Then I go lift it, I clap a stray, even turn Hollow into a John Doe Bullet ain't got no name You be sellin' wigs? Ain't shit that you can tell me nigga 2 Chainz, he done ran into the hair weave killer No talk we makin' visits, he said, "Niggas talkin' but we lived it." Since a youngin', I looked up to the robbers and the killers On God I really lived it Remember in Space Jam when there was stealin' talents? Shit I was with the Monsters in the trenches No fuck nigga scarin' me, ain't you do that can move me, I'm like London security Cassidy tryin' to make a comeback, but gettin' exposed by drag niggas Funny you tryin' to switch lanes and got caught up in the trans-ition We split melons, have ya shit swellin' Gun butt, now the bottom of the TEC's (texts) red like I misspelled it You talkin' hostile, I gotta drop you, mollywhop you The Lefty why you're a Mafia member, cause Donnie Brosco workin' We get to clappin' shots, clear out half the spot Leavin' shit lookin' alienated when we Attack The Block Bitch...kill yaself
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