King Shit Lyrics - Yo Gotti

Oh this a hit, nigga 

With no words on it 

I got on two chains, no, I ain't Tity Boi 

I'm dream chasing, but I ain't from Philly, boy 

Bitch bad, and she said I can get it, boy 

This a hit and I'ma make a nigga feel it, boy 

My flow deranged, my swag insane and my campaign on ten 

I like the bitch, she bad as fuck, but I'm really into her friend 

House up on the hill, got it off of cocaine 

Aventador Lamborghini, condo off of Biscayne 

Bitch, I'm in my lane, fresh as hell, no stains 

Robin's Jean with the stones, Giuseppes match my chain 

I'm different, I was built for this, my bitch only rock Tiffany 

You a rat, you'll sing a symphony 

And I'm back, street's been missing me 

My watch silly, my clock ignorant, and I'm the king of my city 

I'm ban'd up and I ain't in a band 

But my flow just like an instrument 

Bass, feel that, yellow tape of the trizack 

Hating is a disease, pussy, where they do that? 

(L.A. Reid, cut the check for me) 

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King shit and you know what it is 

Shorty smell like a pound of that loud 

But a nigga look like a hundred mil 

But I drive Ferrari, fuck the motherfucking dealer 

Pay ten million for a mansion, that worth more than your opinion 

I got racks all in my cargo pants 

Extended clip with that hollow, man, yo bitch ass 

If yo bitch bad, she get fucked fast, ain't no romance 

My diamond dancing in 3D, nigga 

Like the Vegas strip when you see me, nigga 

Your money wrong and my money long 

And I'm playing with it like P.E., nigga 

Real nigga, no joke, don't think there, nigga, no ho 

I got mini Mac-10 and a 100 round drum 

In the carpet up under my car 

And nigga, I don't wanna smoke your weed 

Plain gas the only thing I smoke 

And I gotta thank God for the niggas off Bankhead 

Shorty, they taught me everything I know 

Like how to whip it, cook it, cut it, deal it 

Hand it to your partner, let him flood it through the city 

Really, we 'bout that action, you try us and we blasting 

We turnt to the max, that's a motherfucking fact 

I'm a real nigga, fuck these rappers 

Photos 

Door up, doors down 

When I'm in the club, bitch, it's going down 

Shorty thick as fuck, hands down 

Hands up, pants down 

Down, down, shorty fucking head down 

I see my phone blowing up, I know it's going down 

Once I busted at the rapper, then it hit the town 

Chiefin' numbers in the city, boy, it going down 

This that dope boy academy, them three letters been after me 

The F.B.I. ever catching me, my family might witness a tragedy 

Shorty open her legs up happily 

I ball hard like an athlete 

Young, black nigga in a big, white Phantom 

Nigga, I look like a referee 

They blowing the whistle, they telling 

If I do the crime, I'm jailin' 

This bitch turned up, making it rain 

When I'm in the club, you yelling 

They talk about these Bentleys that I'm getting on the daily 

One feet in the game and one feet out, swear I barely made it 

I'ma real nigga 'til the death of me 

Never sing a song like a parakeet 

Fifty bands in my pocket, just blew sixty grand on that Cherokee 

I be gettin' money like a motherfucking Brinks trunk 

Standing in the kitchen, nigga, trying to whip a brick up