Текст Lil Gotit – Zaytoven Freestyle

Poppin’ extra time, no, we don’t do the toe tag
Come to me, trust you gettin’ taxed, yeah, wholesale
Got used to the riches, now I’m takin’ bubble baths
Solitary stones in the chain cost a couple racks
All in my business, lil’ bitch, get your nose back
I’m the realest of ’em all but y’all been knew that
I’m the real G.O.A.T., I’m poppin’ on anything
Wrist hittin’ hard, could’ve swear it was Liu Kang
Every time I drop me a top, I get new stains
Every time switched out the car, I get new brains
Strapped up, C4, I’m blowin’ up like Hussein
Ice cream diamonds, could’ve swore I was Gucci Mane
On a Zaytoven beat gettin’ sucked by a freak
Soon as I get numb, skeet, skeet, skeet
Blizzard goin’ on on my neck, come ski
Rob a nigga with a mask, shout out boy Ski
Got a redhead bitch, wanna meet Yachty
Rich nigga zone, yeah, these Bartis
Clear diamonds on, you don’t need Visine
Money stackin’ up taller than Yao Ming
Cash on me like XO
I’m at blazing, not Fredo
My shooters don’t care for payroll
Long as I live, that’s all they go
Family over everything, that’s goals
It’s money all the time, can’t stop, I want more

Get in my zone, go and put it on a show
Cup red, geekin’ off a Perc’, I’m floatin’
Hit ’em with a right and left and elbow
Remain solid and stick to the code
Pull up with the bros, used to kick doors
Bring ’em back to school then get it sold
Know I get to poppin’ my shit, come over
Loving poppin’ beans, love my Zoes
I respect my partners most when they let me know
We don’t do ’em wrong when I’m not in my zone
Everybody got a Glock when we leave home
Vibin’, music, smokin’, hoes
It’s a lifestyle, this just what goin’ on
White boy drip, tatted up, Post Malone
Eyes real low, I’m the new Cheech & Chong
Travis Scott on my ho, pick up the phone
Infinity bars comin’ straight off the dome
Infinity cars pullin’ up my home
Gas in the drawer, dispensary weed
Rollin’ it up, big deuce, no twigs
I ain’t met a real nigga yet to call twin
That fake motion picture money, I don’t trust them bands
Racks on the passenger, ridin’ in the Benz
Upgraded ceiling, windows tinted
Yeah, they can’t throw ten but he ain’t hold a SIG
With a monkey on that bitch, he ready to split a wig
Done got bad body hoes (Hood Baby)
You better keep a clean nose (Hood Baby)
When you real, it shows (Hood Baby)
No nothing we lettin’ go (Hood Baby)
Be proud, you can stand ten toes (Hood Baby)
Make sure they imprinted in the floor (Hood Baby)
‘Cause that one time you fuck up (Hood Baby)
I might be the one wipe your nose (Hood Baby)