Back to Top

Yo Gotti - The Art Of Hustle Album Lyrics



Yo Gotti - The Art Of Hustle Lyrics






My City

My teacher asked me what I wanted to be
I stood in front of the whole class and I told her I wanted to be a gangsta

Every day somebody's killed in these streets
Whether innocent or guilty
(It's my city nigga)
And you don't have to travel to another world
'Cause there's a war zone in my city
(Shit a war zone out here)
Oh Memphis, oh Tennessee
No other place will be home for me (Ever)
All the people, all the struggle
In a world full of fakes my city made me a real hustler (Hustler)
(True hustler)

First Three Six break up, and every day I wake up
A nigga got a problem with me
I got a hundred clips, a hundred guns, a hood full of killers
And I dare something could happen to me
See my city at a different state, it's no honor
We used to have to make it through the year now it's the summer
And everybody mob somthin', everybody rob somethin'
Everybody scrap and everybody shot somethin'
Young niggas like ISIS (Terrorists)
Killin' like they got a license
Life used to be priceless now it's worthless
Niggas gone on missions ain't even worth it
Homie chill (chill), lil homie chill (Chill)
Lil homie don't respect the big homies no more
Drakos and choppers, no more handguns no more
Four deep, four hundred shots, everybody under 16
I remember I was getting' bricks for the 16 the city changed nigga

Every day somebody's killed in these streets
Whether innocent or guilty
And you don't have to travel to another world
'Cause there's a war zone in my city
Oh Memphis, oh Tennessee
No other place will be home for me
All the people, all the struggle
In a world full of fakes my city made me a real hustler

You know it's rules and regulations when you king of the city
And niggas comin' for the throne, some niggas don't make it home
I ain't talkin' that rap shit, I'm speaking 'bout real beef
Where big homies can get wet and niggas can't get sleep
Put a 10 on a nigga, f*ck that put a 50, make his friend do the nigga
This Memphis, Ten, nigga
Home of the poverty, home of the robberies
I be goin' through some real shit like nigga don't even bother me
It's goin' down in the DM
Nah nigga it's goin' down when I see him
Biggest record of my career, I'm becomin' a star
And I'm shootin' a AR out the car
Look at your favorite rapper
Just be patient, he gon' f*ck up, he a Memphis nigga
Maybe I will, maybe I won't
Thuggin' in a nigga
Money don't change that, fame can't change that
I've done shit to niggas in the streets I can't take back
So every second of my life I got a gun and I hate that
But this Memphis, if you get caught without you gon' regret that
So f*ck it

Every day somebody's killed in these streets
Whether innocent or guilty
And you don't have to travel to a foreign land
'Cause there's a war zone in my city
Oh Memphis, oh Tennessee
No other place will be home for me
All the people, all the struggle
In a world full of fakes my city made me a real hustler
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Mario Sentell Giden, Atia Boggs, Kimberly Pate
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Bible

Yeah, hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Bible, yeah, hand on my gun

Praying to my gun it be my bible
Me and two bitches in the shower
Too sauced up on these hoes, I'm going viral
Jackboy, I sell his ass a brick of flour
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Praying to my gun it be my bible

Imma dope boy, never fold, never told, ran on overload
In the kitchen with the stove, baking soda, pot and bowl
Swear to God I'll kill a nigga then repent
I'm a millionaire and I grind for every cent (Amen)
Plug came that's a blessing
F*ck these hoes I ain't stressing (Never)
Leave the house with no weapon
Make sure the money right no discrepancies
Grind mode
Young nigga had a quarter pound but he stayed down, front row at the SuperBowl
Team strong we campaign pop champagne win the SuperBowl
I can change the flow up (Flow up)
I can take that work inside the kitchen make it blow up
You want a sack I make it show up (Show up)
Don't make me bring that Lam out just to pick your hoe up (Lil nigga)

Praying to my gun it be my bible
Me and two bitches in the shower
Too sauced up on these hoes, I'm going viral
Jackboy, I sell his ass a brick of flour
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Praying to my gun it be my bible

Hand on my gun hand on my bible
Just hit a lick for 500 thousand
Just copped a whip for 500 thousand
That loud had 500 pounds of it (Preach)
Dope boy I got money and the power (Preach)
My job pay 100 grand a hour (Preach)
My hoe want me to f*ck her in the shower (Preach)
My hoe want me to f*ck her for a hour (Preach)
Little money nigga we ain't never accepted that
Big choppas any beef you know we dealt with that
These watches like trophies
These niggas like vultures
These bitches like roaches and we good with that

Praying to my gun it be my bible
Me and two bitches in the shower
Too sauced up on these hoes, I'm going viral
Jackboy, I sell his ass a brick of flour
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Praying to my gun it be my bible

Church, hand on my gun hand on my bible
Fingers on the trigger like vagina
The bible open right there on the dresser, I just pray that all my enemies are watching me from heaven
Now I'm peeking 'round the corner before I turn that muthaf*cka
I played them corners like I'm Richard Sherman muthaf*cka
I play in my position on these niggas 1st and 10
Treating that prescription like a scripture amen
Now we in the kitchen with the chickens and the hens
Lord please forgive us but we sinning for the rent
I just popped 2 pills I feel them bitches kickin in
0-100 got a ticket in the Benz
Show me where the bible say thou shall not ball
I just hit a lick for a thousand Adderalls
I just rolled a blunt up in a page from the bible
And all my niggas psycho and all my bitches spiteful
John 3:16

Praying to my gun it be my bible
Me and two bitches in the shower
Too sauced up on these hoes, I'm going viral
Jackboy, I sell his ass a brick of flour
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
Praying to my gun it be my bible

Hand on my bible
Hand on my bible
Hand on my gun, hand on my bible
That be my bible, yeah, Tunechi
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MARIO MIMS, DWAYNE CARTER, BEN DIEHL
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Down In The DM

I seen your girl post her BM (W)
So I hit her in the DM
All eyes, yeah, I see 'em
Yeah, that's your man? I'd hate to be him (whoop)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)

I tell her, Snapchat me that pussy (mood)
Or FaceTime me that pussy if it's cool (woo)
Boy, my DM poppin' (DM poppin')
My DM just caught a body (mood)
I got celebs in the DM (mood)
That's breaking news if they see them (who?)
But nah, we don't do no talkin' (we don't do no talkin')
We see sucker shit too often (f*ck nigga)

I seen your girl post her BM
So I hit her in the DM
All eyes, yeah, I see 'em
Yeah, that's your man? I'd hate to be him (whoop)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)

I tell her, don't you hate when you get screenshot? (Petty)
Bitch, that DM wasn't for everybody (rules)
I love the 'Gram, I love the 'Gram (I love the 'Gram)
I'm addicted to it, I know I am (I know I am)
And I just followed Angela (Simmons)
Boy, I got a crush on Angela (Simmons)
They like, "Damn, Gotti, you bold" (bold)
F*ck it, I'm gon' let the world know (goals)

I seen your girl post her BM
So I hit her in the DM
All eyes, yeah, I see 'em
Yeah, that's your man? I'd hate to be him (whoop)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)

I tell her, Snapchat me that pussy (mood)
Snapchat that pussy if it's cool
Snapchat me that pussy (mood)
Snapchat that pussy if it's cool

I seen your girl post her BM
So I hit her in the DM
All eyes, yeah, I see 'em
Yeah, that's your man? I'd hate to be him (whoop)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
I tell her
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Benjamin Dyer Diehl, Mario Sentell Giden, Khaled Khaled, Ian Brandon Lewis
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Law

Don't f*ck no bitch that's f*cking with your dawg, that's law
If you come up don't forget about your dawgs, that's law
I'm a street nigga so it's f*ck the law
If you broke nigga that should be against the law
F*ck no bitch that's f*cking with your dawg, that's law
If you come up don't forget about your dawgs, that's law
I'm a street nigga so it's f*ck the law
If you broke nigga that should be against the law

I'm a real hustler so don't knock it, that's law
It's all about the re-up and the profit, that's law
Can't be in the club without no bottles, that's law
We gon' ball today f*ck tomorrow, that's law
I be in the kitchen whipping trying to cook the sauce
If you sat down to talk, then nigga you the law
Balmain mannequin I'm fresher than a doll
Look so damn fresh that shit should be against the law
I'm living my life like the rules of the game and they calling the 40 a law
Money with money with all of my homies ain't f*cking with none of these broads
Hustling just to show out for these bitches you lost
In love but you ain't never got the pussy you want
Head on first night we need to turn that to a law
Love on first sight man I don't f*ck with that at all
Bitches can't be beefing 'bout no niggas, that's law
Niggas shouldn't beefing over bitches, that's off

Don't f*ck no bitch that's f*cking with your dawg, that's law
If you come up don't forget about your dawgs, that's law
I'm a street nigga so it's f*ck the law
If you broke nigga that should be against the law
F*ck no bitch that's f*cking with your dawg, that's law
If you come up don't forget about your dawgs, that's law
I'm a street nigga so it's f*ck the law
If you broke nigga that should be against the law

Got guns for every nigga, news reporter
Working with them fours you on Law & Order
If you girl getting it then you must support her
I turnt up I'm trying to f*ck somebody daughter
Piecing up on bottles boy don't let me find out
(Don't let me find out, don't let me find out)
Them your home girl's shoes bitch don't let me find out
(Don't let me find out, don't let me find out)
Trying to steal my swag that copy right infringement
You can't rock all white if your white be looking dingy
The brokest bitches always trying to say they independent
I'm picking real bitches over bad bitches do you feel me

Don't f*ck no bitch that's f*cking with your dawg, that's law
If you come up don't forget about your dawgs, that's law
I'm a street nigga so it's f*ck the law
If you broke nigga that should be against the law

I'm a real hustler so don't knock it, that's law
It's all about the re-up and the profit, that's law
Can't be in the club without no bottles, that's law
We gon' ball today f*ck tomorrow, that's law

Paper over plastic P.O.P, that's law
Cash on delivery C.O.D, that's law
Hush your mouth some time and let 'em teach you, that's law
Never bite the hand of the man that feed you, that's law
Don't forget who buttered your bread don't get amnesia, that's law
Sleep with one eye closed, the back door you ain't sneaking, that's law
Know your bail bonds man and your lawyer number by heart, that's law
Interrogation keep your tongue in park, that's law
You pushing a lot, I'm pushing a lot
You packing a nine, I'm packing a nine
Your bitch is a dime, my bitch is a dime
She curvy and fine, she curvy and fine
You halving your bread, I'm halving my dough
You selling them O's, I rap and do shows
You powder your nose, I only do dro
Mendocino, indoor outdoor
Got to play the game of life 'til game of death, that's law
Don't be no bitch don't stir up hella mess, that's law
He praying on his paper didn't pray, that's law
Dab with two guns in hand from the AK, that's law

Don't f*ck no bitch that's f*cking with your dawg, that's law
If you come up don't forget about your dawgs, that's law
I'm a street nigga so it's f*ck the law
If you broke nigga that should be against the law

I'm a real hustler so don't knock it, that's law
It's all about the re-up and the profit, that's law
Can't be in the club without no bottles, that's law
We gon' ball today f*ck tomorrow, that's law
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: EARL THOMAS STEVENS, MARIO SENTELL GIDEN, LELAND CLOPTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






The Art Of Hustle

[Intro:]
Law #1: never underestimate the enemy
See this a very important law Law 2: if a man how a flaw that mean that flaw really exist
Never take it for granted never
Rule #3: make sure you never break it never sleep where the sack at

[Verse 1:]
I'm the hustler's constitution
Feds giving back time for retribution you snitching that shit excuses
Pain that's execution and thats my only solution I got from stopping these rat niggas from moving
My life a movie not a short film
Big budget Denzel Washington, Will Smith yeah
Scarface, Al Pacino, Godfather, Marlon Brando
A word to the wise watch your guys niggas snakes in disguise
Meeting bitches off the gram know they living and lying
Cold heart never cried if I did it was blood
Little nigga big pride murder that's what it was and that's law

[Gotti talking]
See if a nigga
See when you got that muthaf*ckin chip on your shoulder and that big ass pistol and a nigga come playing
You gotta show a nigga you mean business you know what I'm saying

[Verse 2:]
I'm fighting pain, fame, I never want to change
I'm the same still running with the gang
Still down to kill a nigga about some petty [?]
You a million dollar nigga got to get that in your brain
Now get that in your brain it's all about the [?]
We savages we all live the same
And it's the art of war nigga like the art of hustle nigga
They looking for the goonies but Im the muscle nigga
Ima shooter like Durant
I got heart like Russell nigga
I lost a million to the plug I never trust another nigga
What if I sell a million records will that change the code
Will my niggas try to betray me cause I know they vultures
Will LA Reid see my vision [?]
Create me a better way to put my people on
Will my baby mama finally quit texting my phone
Kiss my daughter and my son tell em I'm coming home
Tell my niggas put the pistols down I'm in the zone
I been dropping nothing but gangsta shit on every song
This that shit they been waiting for forever long
They gave my patna 30 years for talking on the phone
I had to watch his mama cry and tell her let's be strong
Ima hold him down he won't do all that time alone
What if I wasn't a rapper the streets would get annoyed
Cause don't nobody tell it how I tell it and you know it
What if they say I changed cause I went outside the box
What's good I kept my plug number so I can get some blocks
18 wheeler full of cocaine I'm talking lots of dope
Not believing Mexican plugs f*ck a horoscope
If you a star where your telescope
These niggas high they on hella dope
Your favorite rapper hella broke
Cars leases they got hella notes
Houses rented got eviction notes and everybody already know
You fabricated and [?]
You sold a million records I got millions of dollars
Who really made it huh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: VALERIE SIMPSON, NICKOLAS ASHFORD, DANIEL JOHNSON, MARIO MIMS, VINAY VYAS, LUCA POLIZZI
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Smile

[Chorus:]
Put a smile on your face hater
Put a smile on your face hater
What you mad at me for dab to the paper
Put a smile on your face bitch
Put a smile on your face bitch
What you hating on your friend for
What you mad at the world for
I can put a smile on his face
I can put a smile on his face (put a smile on his face)
I can put a smile on his face
I can put a smile on his face (put a smile on his face)
I can put a smile on his face
I can put a smile on his face (put a smile on his face)
I can put a smile on his face
I can put a smile on his face (put a smile on his face)

[Verse 1:]
Say your girl gave me face jeans put a smile on her face (put a smile on her face)
I been popping pills all day the one with the smile on the face
When you get a check like this that'll put a smile on your face
When you got a wrist like this that'll put a frown on they face
When you ball hard like me they gon call a foul on the play
Shit that they smoking too quiet so I got the loud on the way
Shit that I'm rocking in the club boy I spent a bag on a [?]
Shit that I'm drinking in the club that was 10 thousand a case
If you see a hater with a frown on em turn it upside down on em
Hashtag pound put the pound on em
He a pussy it's going down on em
100 round drum in the case I'll put a child in his place
Walk around with 100k and won't give your bitch the time of the day

[Chorus:]
Put a smile on your face hater
Put a smile on your face hater
What you mad at me for dab to the paper
Put a smile on your face bitch
Put a smile on your face bitch
What you hating on your friend for
What you mad at the world for
I can put a smile on your face
I can put a smile on your face (put a smile on your face)
I can put a smile on your face
I can put a smile on your face (put a smile on your face)
I can put a smile on your face
I can put a smile on your face (put a smile on your face)
I can put a smile on your face
I can put a smile on your face (put a smile on your face)

[Verse 2:]
Hi hater
Popping bottles standing on tables
Sparkles in the air celebration
We just tryna dab to the paper
Style on my bitches, smile on my peers, smile on my face walking in the crib
Frowns on my haters when they see the crib you should see they face when they see the whip
I can put a smile on your face that's all jokes to the side
And nigga put a frown on your face some shit you just can't hide
Let me put my hand on your waist pull your hair and hit it from behind
I bet that put a smile on your face bet that put a smile on your face
Heard you got a job that you hate heard you got some bills that's late
Heard you got a nigga you can't shake heard you got a friend that's fake
Girl you need a thug in your life girl I need a plug in my life
I never had love in my life I was busy selling drugs all my life

[Chorus:]
Put a smile on your face hater
Put a smile on your face hater
What you mad at me for dab to the paper
Put a smile on your face bitch
Put a smile on your face bitch
What you hating on your friend for
What you mad at the world for
I can put a smile on your face
I can put a smile on your face (put a smile on your face)
I can put a smile on your face
I can put a smile on your face (put a smile on your face)
I can put a smile on your face
I can put a smile on your face (put a smile on your face)
I can put a smile on your face
I can put a smile on your face (put a smile on your face)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Chris Godbey, Jetmir Milli Salii, Mario Mims, Timothy Mosley
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BOURNE CO.






Come Up

[Chorus:]
Cause she looking for a come up
All she really want is my millions
Man she looking for a come up
You don't think I know but I know
Yea she looking for a come up
She looking for a come up
She looking for a come up
She looking for a come up

[Verse 1:]
She a star she work at Starlets
She get money cause she bartending
Give these hoes they trophies these hoes winning
Get more money than niggas they riding Bentleys
Looking for a come up and done it
Memorial Weekend in Vegas she made a 100
Magic City Mondays or DOA
Catch me down at Follie's when Im in the A
She stay in North Beach around the plug
She work at KOD the Office too
And this her art of hustle so you can't knock her hustle

[Chorus:]
Cause she looking for a come up
All she really want is my millions
Man she looking for a come up
You don't think I know but I know
Yea she looking for a come up
She looking for a come up
She looking for a come up
She looking for a come up

[Verse 2:]
She a stripper, exotic dancer
Get that money she got her bands up
She go to college a 4 year plan bruh
She raise her son without a man bruh
She on the come up she independent
You niggas losing these bitches winning
You niggas boring she riding foreign
She stacking money for her first born
F*ck a broke nigga it's downgrade for real
Real niggas will motivate you for real
She just looking for a come up
So that money she gon run up

[Chorus:]
Cause she looking for a come up
All she really want is my millions
Man she looking for a come up
You don't think i know but i know
Yea she looking for a come up
She looking for a come up
She looking for a come up
She looking for a come up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: REMO RASHAD GREEN, MARIO MIMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC






Pay The Price

[Verse 1:]
Yeah
Bills due on the kitchen table
Mama walked past em cause she ain't able
Watching mama's family sister tryna watch cartoons muthaf*cka came through and clipped the cable
Get a job that's the usual
Mama had a job that ain't do enough
Mama hired me I'm sacking groceries up
90 days later I was posting up
Quarter pound of weed 250 strong
Staying out late bringing profit home
It's me and Big G tryna stack it up
Shit ain't been the same since my nigga gone
I looked up to niggas like Hookshot
Niggas like Lil Pat and Woo Woo
I was on the block as a young boy
Watching them hustle it was like school

[Chorus:]
I hustled with the greats, ate with the vultures and the snakes
My days turned to nights my nights turned to days
Streets got me paid
And I know Ima pay the price for it
I know it
One day Ima pay the price for it
I know it
I know it
I know it

[Verse 2:]
First time I seen 10 bands
First time I seen 100 grand
First time I seen 1 mill
I knew shit was about to get real
Homeboys start acting different
Shit changed I ain't even tripping
Same nigga used to ride for em one time I was on the front line for em
I was a hitta for a dopeboy
Play crazy yeah you know boy
Im in the hood with the doors up
Nigga I ain't never froze up
Bad bitches chose up
They like me or the lifestyle
Nigga I don't really give a f*ck
But Ima burn the head in a meanwhile

[Chorus:]
I hustled with the greats, ate with the vultures and the snakes
My days turned to nights my nights turned to days
Streets got me paid
And I know Ima pay the price for it
I know it
One day Ima pay the price for it
I know it
I know it
I know it

[Verse 3:]
Shit different you ain't even notice it
All the hustlers I ain't even quote it
New Wraith I ain't even rode it
Nick got a strap he ain't even load it
Shit real growing up in the projects
Tryna stay real in the process
Seen a pump knock out a nigga intestines
Young boy standing there tryna digest it
Where all the real niggas at that's my question
Never got indicted that's my blessing
When I put it on the Gram that's the motivate you
Inspiration nigga that's not flexing
New Lambs, new Raris
Little homie fighting charges
Make bond get em lawyers
Green dot so they can call you

[Chorus:]
I hustled with the greats, ate with the vultures and the snakes
My days turned to nights my nights turned to days
Streets got me paid
And I know Ima pay the price for it
I know it
One day Ima pay the price for it
I know it
I know it
I know it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Mario Mims, Shondrae Crawford
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG Rights Management, THE ADMINISTRATION MP INC






Momma

Momma, I don't never want to see you struggle
Tired of seeing me bump heads with my big brother
Momma, that's big bruh, you ain't got to worry
We'll die together, kill together, face a buck and jury
Momma, I'm like a father to my little sister
Gotta make sure she do right, momma, she my baby sister
Momma, I'm just living how you taught a nigga
Said I ain't raising no pussies, I got one daughter, nigga
I remember them Feds came and got a nigga
Asked me where you at and I wouldn't talk to niggas
Momma, living room floor with tears in my eyes hearing them say you gon' be gone for a long time, Momma

Shout out my Auntie Janet she a motherf*cker
PeeWee did 10 back out and she still hustling
Erica used to write you letters tell you that she love you
Then we used to drive to visit you up in Kentucky
Like we went from being rich that shit was super ugly
Then my Momma got a job man she selling groceries
Used to have a house in Vegas when we was doing good
And a house behind Elvis now we in the hood
Used to have a Benz now we got a Nissan Sentra
And I can't get a pair of Jordans that's f*cking with my mental
I'm just tryna let you visualize what I done been through
And this shit public record nigga you check my credentials
Facts

I switched the family hustle put us back on top
Momma live on 5 acres brother in that drop
Sister she an entrepreneur get her own M's
Feds still watch the family but we don't even see em
I ain't tripping nigga this the art of hustle home
I went from flipping dope to buying houses flipping homes
Momma taught me f*ck your losses just keep moving on
If you get caught just never snitch one day you coming home
Momma, gave me the game and for Mother's Day I spent a million and a half for you on Privé
And you the owner I'm a worker this shit yours do what you want to you deserve it
Momma

I grew up around hustlers that turned me to a hustler
Was raised by a woman I watched my Momma hustle
I just want to be a kingpin
Teacher asked me what's my Momma she a queenpin
And this my family tradition
I'm just keeping on my family tradition
We built a legacy
And when I grow up I want to be a kingpin
Teacher asked me what's my Momma she a queenpin
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MARIO MIMS, MARSHA AMBROSIUS, VIDAL DAVIS, ANDRE HARRIS, TORRANCE ESMOND
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






General

Woah, woah, woah

[Hook - Yo Gotti:]
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I can f*ck a sack up cause the money plentiful
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I can f*ck a sack up cause the money plentiful
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general

[Verse 1 - Yo Gotti:]
Takin' care of the hood, you a general
I be talkin' real shit in general
Got a lot of keys like the janitor
Cleanin' out them keys got me an Aventador
Playin' with the keys like a piano
Shout out to my thick bitch in Atlanta
She a boss bitch, yeah she a boss bitch
I be downing pounds like I'm on Crossfit
Medusa heads, they're Versace
I'm rich from sellin' dope so I cannot be illuminati
My nigga 18 and he just caught him a body
First I made his bond then I bought him a Maserati
Congrats

[Hook - Yo Gotti:]
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I can f*ck a sack up cause the money plentiful
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I can f*ck a sack up cause the money plentiful
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general

[Verse 2 - Future:]
Tat my name cross her hand and salute me
Got them mollys and them xans, that's a two piece
I got my main bitch ridin' like a Goonie
I got that duffle bag on me and it's Louie
I'm bout to do the whole dash out here grindin', grindin'
I got three mil all in jewelry, go ask Avianne
Ain't no brag in bossin', I caught the wave on 'em
You don't want no problems, we gon' lay on you
Step in the kitchen, it's woo
Strap with that carbon, it's woo
Sippin' that lean like Goose, I'm full of them drugs
I get dirty-dirty money, it's covered in blood
If you can't f*ck no pop star you a scrub
Freebandz

[Hook - Yo Gotti:]
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general

[Verse 3 - Yo Gotti:]
Salute me or you shoot me when you see me cuz
Purple Heart for all your soldiers, they know what it was
They know what it is, yeah they know what it is
They know chop-chop-chop-chop, they know this shit real
Takin' care of your kids - you a general
F*ck nigga, I don't do subliminals
F*ck nigga, I don't do no interviews
Bout no beef, bout no issues
Catch you slippin', get up witcha
I'm a general, yeah I'm a general
Stars and stripes, you know how it go
You can't get no bricks from me 'less you want 10 or more

[Hook - Yo Gotti:]
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I can f*ck a sack up cause the money plentiful
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I can f*ck a sack up cause the money plentiful
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
I'm a general, little nigga I'm a general
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Benjamin Diehl, Khaled Khaled, Marco Rodriguez, Nayvadius Cash, Mario Sentell Giden
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG Rights Management






Imagine Dat

[Intro:]
Ya
Aye you know this The Art of Hustle
On this album nigga, it's all about the laws all about the rules and shit that mean shit
So today nigga we talking about loyalty
We going back and f*ck with everybody we started with

[Verse 1:]
Ya, they want that old Gotti flow so I went and got drama
Classic Memphis shit bitch we about to do some numbers
I get money with the Mexicans but I can't trust the runners
So focused on the money it's like I'm looking through a tunnel
Yea that tunnel vision 20/20 on you snitches
Get popped gon do your time or nah that's against my religion
Ain't no competition I'm the realest nigga in it
F*ck your favorite rapper tell 'em I said it and I meant it
When I'm in your city know I'm mobbing with them semis
I talk that gangsta shit but pussy this is not a gimmick
I want a 'rari f*ck a Hemi
A Lamb' f*ck a 'vette
The realest in these streets awards goes to

[Chorus:]
Imagine dat
They gave awards to the real niggas
Imagine dat
They gave Grammies to the drug dealers
Imagine dat
My life a movie where the Oscar
Imagine dat
I got killers on my roster
Imagine dat
They had awards for the real niggas
Imagine dat
They had a Grammy for the drug dealers
Imagine dat
This shit a movie where the Oscar
Imagine dat
No rappers I got killers on my roster
Imagine dat

[Verse 2:]
They give another award to a f*ck nigga I might jump on stage like Kanye
Got Taylor Swift and Beyonce nominated what the streets say
F*ck a Grammy I'll take a million dollars right now
Free all the real niggas right now
Hustler of the year
Boy I move my mamma out the hood
I took my niggas out the hood
I'm good in any nigga hood
I'm good in any nigga city
We f*cking all these niggas bitches
No security my young niggas with me
Choppas and anybody can get it for real
Box of baking soda trophy
When you battle rap you get murked
Niggas only need prayer in church
Fresh to death red carpet hearse
If Pimp C was the host
If BMF had a set
And the realest in these streets award goes to who

[Chorus:]
Imagine dat
They gave awards to the real niggas
Imagine dat
They gave Grammies to the drug dealers
Imagine dat
My life a movie where the Oscar
Imagine dat
I got killers on my roster
Imagine dat
They had awards for the real niggas
Imagine dat
They had a Grammy for the drug dealers
Imagine dat
This shit a movie where the Oscar
Imagine dat
No rappers I got killers on my roster
Imagine dat
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER GHOLSON, MARIO MIMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Bank Teller

Whole bunch of money on my mind I'm a bank teller
Pharmaceuticals in the trap nigga I'm a dope seller
Margiela thousand dollars for the tennis shoes
Make the money, blow the money, blow the money, make the money

Whole bunch of money on my mind I'm a bank teller
Pharmaceuticals in the trap nigga I'm a dope seller
Margiela thousand dollars for the tennis shoes
Make the money, blow the money, blow the money, make the money

I just blew a sack in Saks
Closet looking like it's Neimans
Smoking on that woo, sipping Act got me feeling like a demon
Got me feeling like a monster plus I'm bumping Monster by my nigga Future
Met a bitch so real told her I'm marry her I can tell the future
Yea bitch I'm a prophet
Wake up everyday and profit
Wake up everyday with new haters, knowing niggas can't stop me
You a hater boy I want to thank you
Motivate me get this paper
Motivate me f*ck your bitches, thank me later
Million dollars and I threw it
Half a million on a coupe
2 million dollar budget but I said f*ck it slingin' out the stu'
I been trapping out the booth
Coke prices through the roof
Yea the prices prices hella high high 'cause it's desert storm DJ Clue

Whole bunch of money on my mind I'm a bank teller
Pharmaceuticals in the trap nigga I'm a dope seller
Margiela thousand dollars for the tennis shoes
Make the money, blow the money, blow the money, make the money

Whole bunch of money on my mind I'm a bank teller
Pharmaceuticals in the trap nigga I'm a dope seller
Margiela thousand dollars for the tennis shoes
Make the money, blow the money, blow the money, make the money

In the hood giving loans
Investment property buying homes
Invest in pack that strong
F*ck a CP I trust no man
Uncle Sam I be taxing niggas then withdraw it like a ATM
Hood rich off of trap music but I'm popping pills bumping EDM
I just been moving the bank, then put a bill in the vault
Had to withdrew 'bout a bag, money been all in my thoughts
Tell the security we good
Boy we come straight out the hood
We don't trust niggas with badges, only f*ck bitches with asses
Nigga late on a payment make him pay interest
Nigga late on the payment take 'em to the trenches
I can count the money backwards
Yeah I rap but I'm not a rapper
Life a movie but I'm not acting ain't no cut scenes straight action

Whole bunch of money on my mind I'm a bank teller
Pharmaceuticals in the trap nigga I'm a dope seller
Margiela thousand dollars for the tennis shoes
Make the money, blow the money, blow the money, make the money

Whole bunch of money on my mind I'm a bank teller
Pharmaceuticals in the trap nigga I'm a dope seller
Margiela thousand dollars for the tennis shoes
Make the money, blow the money, blow the money, make the money
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Mario Mims, Tony Son
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Hunnid

[Intro - Yo Gotti:]
Ayy Gotti, what you gon' do homie
You gon' swap it up, slang it out?
You gon' keep it street?
What you gon' do, nigga?
Nigga I'ma re-up, f*ck you mean, nigga?
Tell Enrique send my shit to Mexico
I don't even wanna see it

[Hook - Yo Gotti:]
I don't know another nigga that had done it
Can't remember last time I got fronted
And the watch that I'm rockin' is a hunnid
Man the streets everyday, I'm a hunnid
If you really want beef, we can run it
Pull up on the squad, we dumpin'
Ran off on the plug with a hunnid
Got the mothaf*ckin' trap house jumpin'

[Verse 1 - Yo Gotti:]
Boy I'm really in the trap, my way strapped
Truth be told, I don't really like to rap
I got quarter halves a slab, pill percs and tabs
Really got a pound runnin' laps
Bitch I'm in the hood, really, really, really in the hood
Niggas like, "Gotti, what's good?"
The coupe two hunnid, nigga I be f*ckin' up the money
And the drum really hold like a hunnid
I don't know another nigga that done it
Can't remember last time I got fronted
Yeah I remember last time I got fronted
I was like, "F*ck the plug," I ain't bring back the money
I ain't savin' no hoes, it ain't Sunday
Know the alphabet boys, they comin'
I blew a 10 at the mall and a 10 at Kamal's
And a 20 at Magic last Monday
Every weekend I'ma sell a hunnid
Plant a money tree and I'ma be up under it
3 mil' for the condo, new marble floors
And the mothaf*cka ran like a hunnid

[Hook - Yo Gotti:]
I don't know another nigga that had done it
Can't remember last time I got fronted
And the watch that I'm rockin' is a hunnid
Man the streets everyday, I'm a hunnid
If you really want beef, we can run it
Pull up on the squad, we dumpin'
Ran off on the plug with a hunnid
Got the mothaf*ckin' trap house jumpin'

[Verse 2 - Pusha T:]
Aye Gotti, while we're talkin' 'bout a hunnid
We're some niggas who ain't done it
That's 45 keys on a calibrated scale, bitch countin' on her stomach
If you checkin' the math, countin' on your fingers to add
We don't count extras when it's like Tetris
Yuugh, let me dummy down my lecture
Digest, these watches got sister, cousins
My Rollies got missin' numbers
These bezels is blindin'
The 3 and the 9 is like distant lovers
Now guess what I fronted, nigga (take a guess)
Keeps at 300, nigga (double that)
I say about 5, I kept it alive whenever you want it, nigga
Maseratis for the monkeys (f*ck them niggas)
Any dodge for a flunkie
Only one above me is the God in the sky
I'm a man without a country

[Hook - Yo Gotti:]
I don't know another nigga that had done it
Can't remember last time I got fronted
And the watch that I'm rockin' is a hunnid
Man the streets everyday, I'm a hunnid
If you really want beef, we can run it
Pull up on the squad, we dumpin'
Ran off on the plug with a hunnid
Got the mothaf*ckin' trap house jumpin'

[Verse 3 - Yo Gotti:]
I got a hunnid guns, hunnid clips
Swear to God I took a hunnid trips
Million dollars, that's a hunnid flips
[?] at a hunnid rip
A hunnid grams on the kitchen table
Tryna hide a hunnid pounds from my nosy neighbors
I got a hunnid problems but it ain't no hoes
I got a hunnid robbers tryna take my soul
I know a hunnid ways to make a hunnid thou
We done skipped public housing
[?]
Gotta thank God I made today
I never joined no gang, I always got my money
I never crossed my partners, cause it ain't one hunnid
I sold dope on Saturday then went to church on Sunday
Call my plug and re-upped on Monday

[Hook - Yo Gotti:]
I don't know another nigga that had done it
Can't remember last time I got fronted
And the watch that I'm rockin' is a hunnid
Man the streets everyday, I'm a hunnid
If you really want beef, we can run it
Pull up on the squad, we dumpin'
Ran off on the plug with a hunnid
Got the mothaf*ckin' trap house jumpin'
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: TERRENCE THORNTON, CARLTON MAYS, MARIO MIMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Ultra Tunes, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Luv Deez Hoez

I love deez hoes
I love deez hoes
I love deez hoes
Oh, I love deez hoes
Oh, I love deez hoes
I love deez hoes
Oh, I love deez hoes
I said I love these hoes
I love these hoes
Oh, I love deez hoes

When that ass sit fat and the head on point
I love deez hoes
When the bitch wake up go to work get dough
I love deez hoes
When the bitch hit the club bring a friend home with her
I love deez hoes, I love deez hoes
She fell in love with a gangsta, she a gangsta hoe

Oh, I love deez hoes
(Love deez hoes)
I love deez hoes
Oh, I love deez hoes
(Love deez hoes)
I love deez hoes

Okay, my bitch is a winner
Met the bitch in December
Real name was Keisha
Nickname was Criminal
Got a red bitch named July
Head fine, fireworks
Pussy special, head amazing
Looking for her, high alert
I'm a street nigga, one hunnid
And I love all of my bitches
I'mma get money, go hard
And ball all out with my bitches
I love thick hoes, light hoes
Black bitches, white hoes
Mixed bitches, ratchet hoes
Boogie bitches can't f*ck with those
I like true freaks, shy hoes
I get money but don't buy hoes
That ass fat, gap wide
She can't stand straight she look pigeon toed
I f*cked Tonya sister, Meeka cousin
Her best friend and her roommate
With y'all BFF y'all can tag team
And we call that shit a double date

When that ass sit fat and the head on point
I love deez hoes
When the bitch wake up go to work get dough
I love deez hoes
When the bitch hit the club bring a friend home with her
I love deez hoes, I love deez hoes
She fell in love with a gangsta, she a gangsta hoe

Oh, I love deez hoes
(Love deez hoes)
I love deez hoes (Love deez hoes)
Oh, I love deez hoes
I love deez hoes

I love bad bitches is the problem
She gon' suck my dick until tomorrow
Spondivits eating calamari
I pay all the bills baby momma ain't worried
Thought I'd f*ck your bitch in a movie
Hardcore all on her booty
Rolex all on the old wrist
Her skirt going up on a Tuesday
This shit started in a Chevy
Tryna do it big 'til I'm wealthy
Got a bookbag full of money
In the dealership take a selfie
All I used to want was a Masi
I used to have to pray for a thousand
Just bought a foreclosed house
Just to use the bitch for a closet
Love all them hoes then I move on
See my old neighborhood when the news on
Leave the club and head straight to the f*cking crib
Just to f*ck her on the futon

Oh, I love deez hoes
(Love deez hoes)
I love deez hoes
Oh, I love deez hoes
(Love deez hoes)
I love deez hoes

I fell in love, first sight
Virgin pussy, super tight
She kinda insecure so she hold me tight
Attitude and one I kinda like
She be talking shit, like to fight
Last nigga ain't treat her right
So the last nigga ain't in her life
She listen to me so I give advice
I said, "you look good, that don't make you bad"
What's your credit score?
Who you f*cked in the past?
What your future is?
What your plans are?
And most important now what you stand for?
A real nigga what you need to be planning for
You gettin' money, what you need a man for?
These lame ass niggas understand bruh
That ain't yo bitch if you paying her
A real nigga what you need to be planning for
You gettin' money, what you need a man for?
These lame ass niggas understand bruh
That ain't yo bitch if you paying her

Oh, I love deez hoes
(Love deez hoes)
I love deez hoes
Oh, I love deez hoes
(Love deez hoes)
I love deez hoes
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MARIO MIMS, CARLTON MAYS
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Down In The DM (Remix)

I seen your girl post her BM (W)
So I hit her in the DM
All eyes, yeah, I see 'em
Yeah, that's your man? I'd hate to be him (whoop)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)

I tell her, Snapchat me that pussy (mood)
Or FaceTime me that pussy if it's cool (woo)
Boy, my DM poppin' (DM poppin')
My DM just caught a body (mood)
I got celebs in the DM (mood)
That's breaking news if they see them (who?)
But nah, we don't do no talkin' (we don't do no talkin')
We see sucker shit too often (f*ck nigga)

I seen your girl post her BM
So I hit her in the DM
All eyes, yeah, I see 'em
Yeah, that's your man? I'd hate to be him (whoop)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)

I tell her, don't you hate when you get screenshot? (Petty)
Bitch, that DM wasn't for everybody (rules)
I love the 'Gram, I love the 'Gram (I love the 'Gram)
I'm addicted to it, I know I am (I know I am)
And I just followed Angela (Simmons)
Boy, I got a crush on Angela (Simmons)
They like, "Damn, Gotti, you bold" (bold)
F*ck it, I'm gon' let the world know (goals)

I seen your girl post her BM
So I hit her in the DM
All eyes, yeah, I see 'em
Yeah, that's your man? I'd hate to be him (whoop)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)

I tell her, Snapchat me that pussy (mood)
Snapchat that pussy if it's cool
Snapchat me that pussy (mood)
Snapchat that pussy if it's cool

I seen your girl post her BM
So I hit her in the DM
All eyes, yeah, I see 'em
Yeah, that's your man? I'd hate to be him (whoop)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
It goes down in the DM (it go down)
It go down in the DM (it go down, it go down)
I tell her
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Benjamin Dyer Diehl, Mario Sentell Giden, Khaled Khaled, Ian Brandon Lewis
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Back to: Yo Gotti


The Art of Hustle is the eighth studio album by American rapper Yo Gotti. It was released on February 19, 2016, by Epic Records and Yo Gotti's CMG record label. The album was supported by two singles: "Down in the DM", and "Law" featuring E-40.

The album debuted at number four on the US Billboard 200 chart, 61,000 album-equivalent units in its first week.
Performed By: Yo Gotti
Genre(s): Hip hop
Released: February 19th, 2016
Year: 2016

Tags:
No tags yet