Trap Luv Rick Ross (Ft. Yo Gotti)

[Intro: Yo Gotti & Rick Ross]
Dudes can't appreciate, you know what I'm saying, talent and wealth, you know what I mean, as far as like mental wealth, you know what I mean? When you see when you the fool
I'm in a jungle (M—)
Lions, tigers and gorillas and shit, nigga (Hood Billionaire)
It's a lot of monkey-ass niggas out here too
Yeah
Art of hustle, nigga
Rules, laws, strategy
Uh (M—)

[Verse 1: Yo Gotti & Rick Ross]
Ten million dollars later, I'm a blessin', nigga (Hood Billionaire)
How a nigga rich, but still stressin', nigga?
Glock 40, Smith & Wesson, nigga
Streets'll never ever stop testin' niggas (Never)
Youngin give 'em a headshot, send a message, nigga
Part rapper, part goon, still finessin' niggas (I am)
I believe in hustle, I don't fuck with luck
And it's fuck 'em, kill 'em all if they don't fuck with us
Them three letters mean a lot boy, sacrifices
Cocaine Mafia, double check the prices
Niggas killin' niggas like they got a license
Niggas crossin' over like they Allen Iverson
Fuck that iPhone 6, they be trackin' niggas
I'm 'bout to get a beeper, fade to black on niggas
Gotti, goodnight, I'm gone
I'll be back when they quit livin' through phones
When niggas put the 'Gram down and pick the grams up
You got follows, but no dollars, man, that shit ain't addin' up
Nah, and all the dirt I done, all the bricks I sold
I can't sleep at night, paranoid, it shows
I be strapped on stage, fuck the award show
'Cause I'll shoot this bitch up and only God knows