Stay ur distance – Yo Gotti lyrics

Lyrics Stay ur distance – Yo Gotti

Stay ur distance lyrics
First week of that virus I lost a half a mil’ (Five hundred)
Let’s see who gon’ survive and who got hustlin’ skills (Hustlin’ skills)
Niggas still outside they must don’t think it’s real (Niggas still outside)
Kinda miss Southside I wanna be in that field (Wanna be in that field)
My mask Dior your bitch just hit my phone I just might smash her more
Gave her the dick the best night in her life what else you askin’ for
Touch my chain I crash of course
That’s one mission you had to abort
Thug life nigga I’m passionate for it (Passionate)
Back outside can’t find the doors
Five six Lam’ trucks five six Cullinans (Phew)

Nigga we back outside back outside back outside
Nigga we back outside
Chrome Hearts Amiris a million in jewelry (Beep)
Nigga I’m back outside back outside back outside
Nigga we back outside
Bitch gettin’ flewed out ASAP (ASAP) if I like then tap tap
Shit been lit it’s ’bout that time let them know you back outside
Back outside (Back) back outside bitch we back outside
Back outside (Back) back outside bitch we back outside

I don’t want no handgun
I need an AK (A whole Drac’)
Busted-down Patek (Patek) she bust it down respect (Respect)
She don’t respect no sucker
street shit from her brother (Yeah)
And if you cuff her you gon’ have to buy
her that Chanel bag before you fuck her
That’s on Coco
Everything Gucci no logo
Everything platinum no promo
Gotti won’t go my bro know
Pack in
No rap money no backends
Thought he was your opp now you’re back friends (What )
That’s how a lame get done in dummy (Bah)
I want the money on the front end (Front)
It’s murder on all of my run-ins (On sight)
Twenty-thousand square feet eight-figure cribs all I can live in (Facts)
I’m the type follow a nigga bitch fly her out
I’m the type pipe her up show her life about
She the type wife-like but not really (Really)
She match my energy (Twin)
She like when I stick the thumb in her butt go’n let her cum on the millions
Flag on the play bitches been wildin’ out ain’t no more Wildin’ Out
I got a drum like I’m Nick Cannon
I’m a street nigga I won a Grammy
I’ma be good word to my granny
Shawty ass fat just like her mammy
My bitch a job shout to JT
Touched down in Miami I’m on a ski
Two-tone Cuban they eighty a piece
Bricks spent forty a piece
Dugg want forty a verse
Big Berg in the Honda the purse

And we coppin’ shit in the recession nigga
Fire hoes too you know what I’m sayin’
Label tried to give me a new deal for the twenty mil’ (What you do )
Turn ’em down (Hah)
Back and forth with the plug talkin’ about numbers
Pack on the ‘Hounddd’

Stay ur distance

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Stay ur distance – Yo Gotti lyrics
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