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letra de toe tag - lil gotit

[intro: lil gotit]
(hurt, what it do?)
huh? check
(10fifty, i love you)
run a lil’ check
(what up, foster?)

[chorus: lil gotit]
jumped off the porch to a check (check)
first move, put some diamonds on my neck (it’s time for that)
i know for sure that it get her p-ssy wet (get her wet)
yeah, my first car was a porsche, not a ‘vette (skrrt-skrrt)
perc’ gotit got your ho on the meds
vibes, sh-t, all of ’em on meds
say you spendin’ checks, i hear you, but you stressin’ that sh-t
hood baby a star, real shooting star
i’m a young rich n-gga with a [?] the sh-t
k!lled a dude once, located his [?]
got drugs down here while the b-tch get blitzed
[?] aston, you gotta slop, slop-top me
i done caught a body on the addy’, in the club on gang sh-t
.223 a hashtag, poppin’ bottles, won’t toe-tag (hood baby)

[verse 1: lil gotit]
eastside, southside, trap at
now i’m pulling up with gas packs
yeah, real big speaker
and i feel like moneybagg, yeah
with moneybags filled with cash
tats in the face, went slime [?] yeah
never know those mans
they don’t want smoke, they group fans
she gifted us with the p-ssy like december
invest in that booty, my bag get it bigger
i’m a young n-gga but [?]
that dawg control the glock, he got render
we on that gang sh-t
stand on the couch and go make it rain sh-t
runnin’ my check in
so we was up at traphouse or that [?] sh-t
we know we live dangerous
slime the opp block, john wicke, point and aim sh-t
we got a check, stupid, i’m ready to flex
don’t think this sh-t sweet, i talk with the tec
[?] chop off the head ’cause he picky
i cuff up my b-tch but i want your big [?]
beat on that p-ssy, it’s as wet as it gets
i’m lit, i’m lit, they ain’t doing sh-t

[verse 2: sg kendall]
yeah (21), stop cappin’ (cappin’)
i heard you got racks in your mattress (what’s happening?)
we slither, we slide, we gon’ catch him, yeah
wipe his lil’ nose, we gon’ bless him
i got more apes than bapes, they do what i say
and they way tougher than steak
put ’em on a plate then we vacate
heard they got done on a late day, yeah
gotit from the six side, uh
meet up at that b-tch house, yeah
addies and them titties out, uh
i think she ready for the d-ck now
d-mn, don’t play with the patek or the money, n-gga
whole lotta paper, we ain’t running out of money, n-gga
courtside seats, watch ’em play around, they in front a n-gga, ooh
[?] like fourteen thousand
h-llcats riding back to back, yeah
swervin’ through atlanta doing the dash, yeah
we’ll slide the six, drop a bag, yeah
then go to cleveland ave with the slatts, yeah
ysl, 21 sh-t, yeah
your gang, my gang hit, yeah
the same lil’ stinking ass b-tch, yeah
now she tryna brag ’bout this sh-t, yeah

[verse 3: lil yachty]
diamonds, bags
four hundred racks (go)
in the penthouse with thirty-three snacks (slatt)
beat on her back ’til it crack
money man, money man
sleep with one eye like i’m huntin’, man
n-ggas ain’t getting no cake, for real
don’t know how it feel, that’s too sad
i had that maybach at 21 (no cap)
that’s two-seventy (i paid it)
for hoes in my room and they ebony (i slayed it)
i f-ck up that sack so irregularly
sinning so much but my b-tch is so heavenly
treachery (f-ck ’em)
they play on my name like i’m dead or somethin’ (yeah)
i confront, they say, “huh?” (what?)
like they couldn’t hear what i said or somethin’
had to drop that lil’ b-tch (get dropped)
she asking questions like she fed or something
fed up, i need me some new head (slatt)
bro cracked the seal on some old red
told her chew on that d-ck like a lemonhead
lil’ b-tch, i’m that young n-gga they copy from (on god)
gave her three shots, what you make of ’em?
i’m f-cking this b-tch in her mama home

- lil gotit

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