[Guy in the crowd]
It's New York nigga! Know where you at!
[Geechi Gotti]
I jumped off the plane, I know where I'm at nigga. Y'all keep tellin' me. We in New York nigga yeah
[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
He keeps sayin, "We in New York. Geechi don't do nothin' dumb in there."
Long as there's real niggas in the buildin', I'ma love it there
This nigga got a Free Cassanova shirt on so you can tell that he's shook
This the type of shit niggas do
Publicity stunt, sayin' "Free Cass" but prolly ain't put no money on his books
We got Geechi Gotti versus...
[Crowd] You'ze a bitch!
[Geechi]
Why you threw that weak ass punch at Brizz?
I ain't even sure it connected
Believе it or not, swing on me, shit'll get serious (Sеrius), all you gon' be seein' is dots
Dot on his head, dot on his heart, dot on his leg
Yeah, y'all remember that crime scene
Well fuckin' wit' me
It's gonna be so many Dots on the ground, they gon' need a blind man to read the crime scene
The .9 beam, I'm blammin' it first
It was hard to shoot that chopper
The kickback I couldn't handle the jerk
I was 12 on that first mission
I ain't hit nothin' but the ground and the dirt
I was literally a kid missing
They called the cops on an Amber Alert
Hammers will squirt
I done shot enough niggas
You should be scared of me, just sayin'
The bullets done been through so much shit, they need therapy
Is he hearin' me?
Why you even did this dawg?
Homecoming? Even in New York you can get chipped off
Literally, come home to a Murda (murder)/suicide like Chris Benoit
He got the Crip pissed off
This old ass nigga just learned how to work Twitter
Aye, but let me tell you, I think dawg did amazin'
Got Verb hostin', you sparkin' the engagement
Little different than me though, I spark it and flame it
Face leakin', they all tryin' to save 'em
Can't make out his last words, what is dawg even sayin'?
He pausin' between each letter
Oh you gon' get used to talkin' in Spaces
Nigga I ain't often this gracious
Nigga I got a tragic past
Show up with MACs and mags
And dissolve (this solve) for murder (Murda) like an acid bath
Nigga you washed up
I can tell you lost touch with this block stuff
T-Rex the only one who lift the Dot's up
You want them niggas to dick ride you and cock bump
With my team it's not like that
It don't matter what you bring to the table nigga, everybody eatin', it's a potluck
Nigga, I'll pistol whip you 'til the Glock bust
Matter of fact, in the streets it don't matter how old you is
I done had to show a couple shorties that they not tough
These streets is petty/foul (pedophile), I know some kids that got touched
Listen, I know you not Lux
Matter of fact...rest in peace to yo' mama
I could never disrespect her, I ain't no fuck nigga
The bond between a mother and her son is much bigger
The last op' I caught I put the bucks in him
He died from a stomach shot
When detectives told his mama, she said she already knew, she had a gut feelin'
What's up wit' him
I don't wanna hear no blogs in his favor
We really used to have to rob to get paper
The shit I did back then, I'm able to rap about it now, technically I was just a content creator
On God niggas haters
I'll pistol whip you 'til they can't recognize you
They gon' have to trace you back usin' ya blood of ya grandfather
When I'm done, you ain't gon' even look like Murda (murder), turn this bitch into Manslaughter
What is ya damn problem bro?
You 'bout to get punched
In the casket, yo' ass gettin' stuffed
In a box with his mouth open, that nigga's a munch
Just know, this just what I do, delete souls
This fully auto is a cheat code
Bullets will Surf through ya chest (Chess) and Roc(k) you to sleep, easy (Eazy)
The GunTitle was a strap with a switch, yeah this muthafucka came with AMG mode
Nigga the streets cold, man I sold coke and crack
That part of my life a different chapter
In the hood they didn't really want that sauce
The OG said to cook it up with that special batter
Then he said, "You gotta push that sauce to the blond haired, blue eyed people. It's they drug and they pockets a lil' fatter."
So that's a Caucasian drug was all I gathered
They start seein' the 'Ye sell out soon as they see White Lives Matter
But quit the chatter, cause look at this crew
They shot who?
Nigga, you from that DVD era?
Gettin' Smacked with the cannon (Canon) oughta bring you déjà vu
They like Mook, just dyin', only his mans is carin'
Sheets barely on top of the body, all the fans is starin'
Looks like the coroner's did a bad job tryin' to cover up murder (Murda) like Jon Benet Ramsey's parents
The cannon's flarin'
Glock finna spray
Pop Murda (murder), shit feel like Marvin Gaye
I ain't all for play
I can get any nigga from the gang to do him
The streets cold, some of my enemies I was related to 'em
I remember I slid once, I seen my cousin out there, I ain't even wanna spark bro
I missed on purpose even though they was all close
The nigga jumped online and said his ops ain't got no aim
But at least they had a heart though
Aye this ain't no east vs. west, nigga this is real vs. fake
If you hear the shit I'm sayin', this the shit you gotta respect
When I rap, yeah I punch, but I don't need crowd noise every time to connect
The shit I rap, niggas ain't gotta react, they gotta reflect
And they gotta expect, you to come out with these long drawn out stupid ass raps, buncha fake angles
Don't matter if you at home nigga, they can't save you
And when it's real- nigga rap
It's New York nigga! Know where you at!
[Geechi Gotti]
I jumped off the plane, I know where I'm at nigga. Y'all keep tellin' me. We in New York nigga yeah
[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
He keeps sayin, "We in New York. Geechi don't do nothin' dumb in there."
Long as there's real niggas in the buildin', I'ma love it there
This nigga got a Free Cassanova shirt on so you can tell that he's shook
This the type of shit niggas do
Publicity stunt, sayin' "Free Cass" but prolly ain't put no money on his books
We got Geechi Gotti versus...
[Crowd] You'ze a bitch!
[Geechi]
Why you threw that weak ass punch at Brizz?
I ain't even sure it connected
Believе it or not, swing on me, shit'll get serious (Sеrius), all you gon' be seein' is dots
Dot on his head, dot on his heart, dot on his leg
Yeah, y'all remember that crime scene
Well fuckin' wit' me
It's gonna be so many Dots on the ground, they gon' need a blind man to read the crime scene
The .9 beam, I'm blammin' it first
It was hard to shoot that chopper
The kickback I couldn't handle the jerk
I was 12 on that first mission
I ain't hit nothin' but the ground and the dirt
I was literally a kid missing
They called the cops on an Amber Alert
Hammers will squirt
I done shot enough niggas
You should be scared of me, just sayin'
The bullets done been through so much shit, they need therapy
Is he hearin' me?
Why you even did this dawg?
Homecoming? Even in New York you can get chipped off
Literally, come home to a Murda (murder)/suicide like Chris Benoit
He got the Crip pissed off
This old ass nigga just learned how to work Twitter
Aye, but let me tell you, I think dawg did amazin'
Got Verb hostin', you sparkin' the engagement
Little different than me though, I spark it and flame it
Face leakin', they all tryin' to save 'em
Can't make out his last words, what is dawg even sayin'?
He pausin' between each letter
Oh you gon' get used to talkin' in Spaces
Nigga I ain't often this gracious
Nigga I got a tragic past
Show up with MACs and mags
And dissolve (this solve) for murder (Murda) like an acid bath
Nigga you washed up
I can tell you lost touch with this block stuff
T-Rex the only one who lift the Dot's up
You want them niggas to dick ride you and cock bump
With my team it's not like that
It don't matter what you bring to the table nigga, everybody eatin', it's a potluck
Nigga, I'll pistol whip you 'til the Glock bust
Matter of fact, in the streets it don't matter how old you is
I done had to show a couple shorties that they not tough
These streets is petty/foul (pedophile), I know some kids that got touched
Listen, I know you not Lux
Matter of fact...rest in peace to yo' mama
I could never disrespect her, I ain't no fuck nigga
The bond between a mother and her son is much bigger
The last op' I caught I put the bucks in him
He died from a stomach shot
When detectives told his mama, she said she already knew, she had a gut feelin'
What's up wit' him
I don't wanna hear no blogs in his favor
We really used to have to rob to get paper
The shit I did back then, I'm able to rap about it now, technically I was just a content creator
On God niggas haters
I'll pistol whip you 'til they can't recognize you
They gon' have to trace you back usin' ya blood of ya grandfather
When I'm done, you ain't gon' even look like Murda (murder), turn this bitch into Manslaughter
What is ya damn problem bro?
You 'bout to get punched
In the casket, yo' ass gettin' stuffed
In a box with his mouth open, that nigga's a munch
Just know, this just what I do, delete souls
This fully auto is a cheat code
Bullets will Surf through ya chest (Chess) and Roc(k) you to sleep, easy (Eazy)
The GunTitle was a strap with a switch, yeah this muthafucka came with AMG mode
Nigga the streets cold, man I sold coke and crack
That part of my life a different chapter
In the hood they didn't really want that sauce
The OG said to cook it up with that special batter
Then he said, "You gotta push that sauce to the blond haired, blue eyed people. It's they drug and they pockets a lil' fatter."
So that's a Caucasian drug was all I gathered
They start seein' the 'Ye sell out soon as they see White Lives Matter
But quit the chatter, cause look at this crew
They shot who?
Nigga, you from that DVD era?
Gettin' Smacked with the cannon (Canon) oughta bring you déjà vu
They like Mook, just dyin', only his mans is carin'
Sheets barely on top of the body, all the fans is starin'
Looks like the coroner's did a bad job tryin' to cover up murder (Murda) like Jon Benet Ramsey's parents
The cannon's flarin'
Glock finna spray
Pop Murda (murder), shit feel like Marvin Gaye
I ain't all for play
I can get any nigga from the gang to do him
The streets cold, some of my enemies I was related to 'em
I remember I slid once, I seen my cousin out there, I ain't even wanna spark bro
I missed on purpose even though they was all close
The nigga jumped online and said his ops ain't got no aim
But at least they had a heart though
Aye this ain't no east vs. west, nigga this is real vs. fake
If you hear the shit I'm sayin', this the shit you gotta respect
When I rap, yeah I punch, but I don't need crowd noise every time to connect
The shit I rap, niggas ain't gotta react, they gotta reflect
And they gotta expect, you to come out with these long drawn out stupid ass raps, buncha fake angles
Don't matter if you at home nigga, they can't save you
And when it's real- nigga rap
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