Текст Yo Gotti – Look In The Mirror (Remix)

Yo Gotti:
6 in the morning I’m gon call Wale
Tell J. Cole meet us down in the A
And bring Wiz Khalifa cause the green look pure

Chorus:
I’m on fire whole hood blazin
Hustle game incredible ice game amazing
Look in the mirror
Look in the mirror
Look in the mirror
Look in the mirror
Look like a chandeliers look in the mirror
Eyes super clear you lookin in the mirror
Who you heard see when you look in the mirror
If you a real nigga you lookin in the mirror

Wale:
D.C. all up in this bitch
Bout time I got my respect
And now these hoes are on my line like Sally Mae on college deck
Gotti here I’m in this shit
?
come here this year
I bet you hear that white music
But I don’t mean top 40 hits
Talk to the mirror
But I don’t need a cure
And when I’m done with this motherfucker
You’ll need an Urn

Yo Gotti:
It go microphone check, one, two, yola
Two chains, two guns, he bipolar
Two baby mama’s, three kids, two Rovers
That’s too many problems, too late to think over
The cars off the showroom, the clothes off the manikin
Hoes off the centrefold, I be going ham at 10
One bitch from Howard, another bitch from Grambling
College girl going wild, it gotta be a camera man
Bird talk feather man, Louie jacket leatherman
Fresh to death that bullshit irrelevant
Man in the mirro I can’t get my shot again
My bitch like a coke bottle your bitch like a pepsi can

Chorus

J. Cole:
Mirror mirror on the wall
Bitch I was born to ball
While you took the summer off my money did a somersault
Backflips, cartwheels, Carolina tarhill
Ain’t not nigga touching my style it got a forcefield
Magneto, blew up like a torpedo
The view from my condo make hoes say neyo
Game strong like the arm on Marino
I stack cheeto’s and dorito’s like casino’s
Fresh to death like I’m buried in a tuxedo
At times I look in the mirror to boost my fucking ego
I say it’s your World, Cole World to be exact
With a flow that’s so thorough, no sir you can’t re-enact
Nigga

Wiz Khalifa:
Hundred fifty on my chain
Ballin’ but it’s not a game
High that’s why they call us planes
All the bitches know my name
I take em home fuck her, get high and never call again
And my niggas all the same
Now that’s what you call a game
Hundred thousand dollars and that’s on champagne
Bitches choose and they excuses my new car’s to blame
Wanna dump a nigga fuck a nigga with a lot of fame
Don’t want nothing from a nigga he all kinds of lame
Try doing what you doing but it’s out of range
Niggas taking shot’s, don’t know how to aim
Don’t know bout you but I see a real nigga
When I’m lookin in the mirror with some diamonds in my ear motherfucker

Chorus