Testo Letter - Yo Gotti
Testo della canzone Letter (Yo Gotti), tratta dall'album Live From The Kitchen
8-11
Dear Jugg
I respect you like a lil' brother should but you gotta look
Got a million dollar master plan
Bruh I know you a man
I know you get your own money, I understand
We'll kill for each other, steal for each other
Valley to parole I'll do them years my brother
I just wanna do this music, you just wanna slang yay
Pray to God everyday that we get on the same page
I got a letter for you
Better yet I got some cheddar for you
Nigga play with you, bust my Beretta for you
It's a chance in a lifetime
You know niggas like us don't get this kinda opportunity in a lifetime
I'm on the road and niggas askin' 'bout you
They wanna meet ya cause they heard a nigga rappin' 'bout you
Either that or they know niggas who was jailin' with you
And they verified know that youse a real nigga
You been a boss, you ain't never been a field nigga
Bro when you look at me you lookin' in the mirror nigga
I'm what you made me, get money and take care of the fam right
Ain't that what you told me, ain't that what my life like
One of a kind, bloodline like no other niggas
Sincerely yours, Yo Gotti
Lil' brother nigga
Letter to my niggas, letter to my family
Letter to the streets, man we out here livin' scandalous
Wrote a letter to my haters, told 'em I don't give a fuck
When you see me in the streets you know what's up, pussy
Letter to my niggas, letter to my family
Letter to my haters, man I know they can't stand me
Wrote a letter to the feds, told 'em I'ma live it up
If you want me come get me I don't give a fuck
This a letter to my children, tell 'em 'bout they mamas
Tell 'em 'bout they daddy, how we met and got they numbers
Met him in the club, daddy was a thug
All them toys and clothes you got, you got from daddy plug
Daddy stopped trappin', start rappin' and travellin'
Bitches start flockin' and daddy couldn't really help it
Treated mama like a queen, mama just wanted daddy
But daddy didn't listen so mama stopped bein' happy
This a letter to my daughter
Don't let no nigga treat you like I treat your mama
Daddy sorry but I'm honest, this the realest shit I ever wrote
If it weren't for baby Mariah, I'd probably be robbin' or sellin' dope
Daddy miss your first words, daddy miss your first steps
On the road gettin' this money, thinkin' dollar signs'll help
And my son, he a motherfucker
Smart and sneaky, we got a bond like a motherfucker
Taught him to fight, never run from a motherfucker
You havin' problems you talk to daddy, he a motherfucker
Now back to me, daddy life consist of obstacles
Life against the odds, success was damn near impossible
But daddy came through, so what I'm tryna tell you
You can be who you wanna be, do what you wanna do
This is to the youngins, bitch
This a letter to the streets, why adopt a nigga?
Gun and work in my hand, why not stop a nigga?
I could've went to college, was smart and made all A's
Could've died five years ago, wouldn't my bald fade
Could've went down with B and them, maybe even C and them
Dodged so many indictments, God must see somethin' else in him
Dear me, who? Yeah you
See you don't understand some of the stubborn shit that you do
Think it's all 'bout Gotti World and the shit that matters to you
The shit that matters to everyone else, you ain't got a clue
Dear Mama, for the record you my mother and my father
You gave me the game, you made me harder
You gave me drive, gave me hope
We shared pain when we were broke
We was happy when we was together
Cause we family it was whatever, mama
Now I'm on, whenever you on
Whatever you desire, whatever you want
And I just talked to Jugg, he hittin' the road with me
Say he gon' catch a couple shows with me
Make him head top CMG
So he can become a million dollar street nigga like me
Credits
Writer(s): Antoine Kearney, Demetrius Ellerbee, Mario Mimms
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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