Paparazzi Lyrics by Yo Gotti, EST Gee & CMG The Label (feat. Blac Youngsta)
(Forever rollin’)
He must thought this shit was sweet, but it’s a Sour Patch (Sour Patch)
Yankin’ all through Tennessee, lost police like a hour back
He gon’ get found hit up, if he diss us, that’s how I’ll react
AR out the window, make this trigger clap like jumpin’ jacks
It’s gon’ be a killin’ if we found out that you fuck wit’ that
Get low, I shoot this pole, I make you limbo, no hittin’ back (Ain’t no hittin’ back)
You heard somethin’ ’bout it, I can take you where they do it at (Take you where they do it at)
They don’t want no ZaZa, this where snorters and them shooters at
Raw, I mean, I started wit’ a ball and flipped to two, three zaps
Silly fool, kickin’ it wit’ dude like you ain’t know he rat (You ain’t know he told?)
You got picks and choose, I ain’t got no picks, all of ’em get this clip (All of ’em get this gun)
I up this blick, I shoot, I ain’t gon’ miss now when he talk he spit (When he talk he spit)
Playin’ tough, nigga, you been a bitch like when he walk his switch (Like when he walk his switch)
(Yeah boy, I heard you been a bitch, you probably take ’em)
Ayy, this that slide music (Yeah)
Grab yo’ blick, go hit the switch, somebody died to it
Some of these niggas ain’t killers, they actually murderers, they really in fifth (Fifth)
I seen a nigga poppin’ Ecstasy (What), blame the body on a pill (Damn)
Bitch tried to hurt me (Hurt me), I popped a perky (Perky), bitch, I’m good (I’m good)
Numb to the pain (I am), my feelings don’t even exist (At all)
Really if it’s ’bout a bitch nigga (Yuh), [?] over rich niggas
Executive drug dealer, who the fuck raise you niggas? (Who that)
You ain’t never watch 48 Hours? You don’t understand Law and Power? (Do you?)
I cherish this thing of ours, let me go get me niggas they flowers (Lets get it)
Rollie, Rollie, Richard AP, can’t buy time in these streets
Don’t put time in these freaks, everybody shine, just not me
Who you ever help, nigga? (Who?) You only ’bout yourself, nigga (Facts)
You ain’t a boss, you ain’t got a trace
You ain’t a boss, you ain’t got the vision
You seen this shit when I was in the kitchen
Turned around then I went and did it
Walkin’ out of each state, wit’ a choppa on me (Choppa on me)
Damn, first it was the feds, now the paparazzi on me (Paparazzi on me)
(Yeah, first it was the feds, now the paparazzi on me)
Headshot, bury him, dug him up, turn around, do it again (Gang, gang, gang, gang)
I’m too consistent wit’ murder, my shotters gon’ do him in (Bow, bow, bow)
When I up this .5, niggas gon’ sing just like a violin
Bitch, you cross yo’ head, yo’ mammy, she gon’ miss her chile then (Pussy)
I could go retarded wit’ the Draco, I put you to shame
Nigga play wit’ me one time, I swear that lil’ shit cost his brain (Pussy)
Walk ’em down, certified, streets’ll tell you ‘fore I got the fame
Switches on my Glock, all my young niggas, shit, I ain’t got no aim
(Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang)
Walkin’ out of each state, wit’ a choppa on me (Choppa on me)
Damn, first it was the feds, now the paparazzi on me (Paparazzi on me)
(Yeah, first it was the feds, now the paparazzi on me)
That’s crazy
First it was the feds, now the paparazzi on me
That’s crazy G, yerr
They still takin’ pictures though
Credits & Song Knowledge
Song Title: Paparazzi
Performed by: Yo Gotti, EST Gee & CMG The Label (feat. Blac Youngsta)
Written by: FOREVEROLLING, David Morse, Blac Youngsta, EST Gee & Yo Gotti
Genre: Hip-Hop/Rap
Album: Gangsta Art
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