Lil' Gotti got the shotty to your body
So don't resist, or you might miss Christmas
I tote guns, I make number runs
I give emcees the runs drippin;
when I throw my clip in the A.K., I slay from far away
Everybody hit the D-E-C-K
My slow flows remarkable
Peace to Matteo
Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniff the yayo
That's crazy blunts, mad L's
My voice excels from the avenue to jailcells
Oh my God I'm droppin shit like a pigeon
I hope you're listenin, smackin babies at they christening!



