G.I. Joe - Lil Gotit

Wanna be hood baby, then come join

Rockin' Gucci socks with Air Force Ones

Poppin' big shit, yeah, I’m the one

Lock in the pots and we beat 'em off the stove

Gotit talk to 'em, all this drip I’m pursuin'

If my brother got beef, I’m chewin'

Thirty-three shots, lil' nigga, Patrick Ewing

I’d rather fuck her friend 'fore I leave her alone

Insecure 'bout a bitch?

No

Ridin' with the sticks like G.I.

Joe

Peep a nigga game, nigga, dead on the low

Investin' in the trap, got bags in the floor

Everywhere I trap, got racks on the sofa

Nigga too close, you ain’t hear the car beep

Back-up camera, yeah don’t got me

Cameras on the truck, TV gon' see

When I head to the shows, SB with me

Wipe a nigga down, that’s

Mama so proud we on TV

Pearls 'round my neck, them CCs

The label cut the check, run the bag by me

Move all the hate so I can see

Neck on froze, that’s zero degrees

Reached all my goals, I’ma have

I don’t give a fuck if she stay or she leave

Yeah, I’m a born superstar

Young nigga shit, I was ridin' in a Porsche

Know about me, hundred shots, get aborted

Now they want no smoke, now they ass tryna sort it

Bitches gettin' crunk, yeah, I hit 'em with a cover

Bank account long, lotta zeros, lotta commas

A nigga stand where he get hit, gon' stumble

Real G.O.A.T.

shit, I’ma teach you to do numbers

Wanna be hood baby, then come join

Rockin' Gucci socks with Air Force Ones

Poppin' big shit, yeah, I’m the one

Lock in the pots and we beat 'em off the stove

Gotit talk to 'em, all this drip I’m pursuin'

If my brother got beef, I’m chewin'

Thirty-three shots, lil' nigga, Patrick Ewing

I’d rather fuck her friend 'fore I leave her alone

Insecure 'bout a bitch?

No

Ridin' with the sticks like G.I.

Joe

Peep a nigga game, nigga, dead on the low

Investin' in the trap, got bags in the floor

Everywhere I trap, got racks on the sofa

Nigga too close, you ain’t hear the car beep

Back-up camera, yeah don’t got me

Cameras on the truck, TV gon' see

When I head to the shows, SB with me

I want millions, millions and trillions

A lot of hundreds, old hundreds to the ceilin'

They fakin', they flodgin', they dodgin' all the realest

Supercharged truck gon' catch you, nigga, in an instant

Back then, nigga ain’t have too much

Now everything I do go up

I don’t never hate, just wish luck

From opps, yeah, up and it’s stuck

Mind on the murder

Yeah, about me, hood babies in a hurry

Runnin' up a bag, yeah, jumpin' over hurdles

I’m gon' cop the Wraith with the mothafuckin' curtains

Wanna be hood baby, then come join

Rockin' Gucci socks with Air Force Ones

Poppin' big shit, yeah, I’m the one

Lock in the pots and we beat 'em off the stove

Gotit talk to 'em, all this drip I’m pursuin'

If my brother got beef, I’m chewin'

Thirty-three shots, lil' nigga, Patrick Ewing

I’d rather fuck her friend 'fore I leave her alone

Insecure 'bout a bitch?

No

Ridin' with the sticks like G.I.

Joe

Peep a nigga game, nigga, dead on the low

Investin' in the trap, got bags in the floor

Everywhere I trap, got racks on the sofa

Nigga too close, you ain’t hear the car beep

Back-up camera, yeah don’t got me

Cameras on the truck, TV gon' see

When I head to the shows, SB with me