Trap Luv

[Intro: Yo Gotti & Rick Ross]
Dudes can't appreciate, you know what I'm saying, talent and wealth, you know what I mean, as far as like mental wealth, you know what I mean? When you see when you the fool
I'm in a jungle (M—)
Lions, tigers and gorillas and shit, nigga (Hood Billionaire)
It's a lot of monkey-ass niggas out here too
Yeah
Art of hustle, nigga
Rules, laws, strategy
Uh (M—)

[Verse 1: Yo Gotti & Rick Ross]
Ten million dollars later, I'm a blessin', nigga (Hood Billionaire)
How a nigga rich, but still stressin', nigga?
Glock 40, Smith & Wesson, nigga
Streets'll never ever stop testin' niggas (Never)
Youngin give 'em a headshot, send a message, nigga
Part rapper, part goon, still finessin' niggas (I am)
I believe in hustle, I don't fuck with luck
And it's fuck 'em, kill 'em all if they don't fuck with us
Them three letters mean a lot boy, sacrifices
Cocaine Mafia, double check the prices
Niggas killin' niggas like they got a license
Niggas crossin' over like they Allen Iverson
Fuck that iPhone 6, they be trackin' niggas
I'm 'bout to get a beeper, fade to black on niggas
Gotti, goodnight, I'm gone
I'll be back when they quit livin' through phones
When niggas put the 'Gram down and pick the grams up
You got follows, but no dollars, man, that shit ain't addin' up
Nah, and all the dirt I done, all the bricks I sold
I can't sleep at night, paranoid, it shows
I be strapped on stage, fuck the award show
'Cause I'll shoot this bitch up and only God knows

[Interlude: Rick Ross]
Yeah, but like I told you a long time ago fam, y'all are my motivation
I keep fightin', doin' this to y'all
Every time I get somethin' in the mail, whether it's favorable or not from the courts, I keep puttin' it down because y'all are my motivation
I appreciate the love (Hood Billionaire)

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Niggas ridin' gold rims and they mama poor
And they kill a family member for that envelope'
I'm the Lionel Richie to these Commodores
We flipped pies to franchisin' Dominoes
I speak for dope boys every track I'm on
Until this day, my people never rat or told
Posted twenty in, I'm talkin' fed pen
The line between us both have gained so very thin
Amongst my boys, I'm W.E.B. Du Bois
Souls of black folk, to hustle wasn't a choice
Rap game, everybody skimmin' off the top
Fuck the interest as long as you pull it off the lot
Hoes wanna fuck, haters wanna hate
Certified sack boy, black Ronald Reagan
Double M, no longer that Buick Regal money
Nickel bag niggas, so don't make me put a kilo on it
Negotiatin' for it or either we take it
Niggas even shootin' choppers in a fuckin' cadence
Fell out with some people that I still love
I guess that's how it goes when it's real blood
I remember countin' cash, standin' in the trap
I turned my hat to the back, had a hundred stacks
Sixty M's later, it's three hundred tax
Still losin' weight with the south on my back, nigga

[Bridge: Rick Ross]
I pray you play by the rules
I came so close to the edge (Hood Billionaire)
I pray you play by the rules
I came so close to the edge
I pray you live by these rules
We came so close to the edge
I pray you play by the rules

[Outro: Rick Ross]
Ain't no mercy, young nigga
It's the jungle, locs (Hood Billionaire)
And I pray you rich forever
Gotti, I pray you rich forever
All my niggas, I pray you rich forever
When you smokin' and you vibin' to this shit
I pray you rich forever, my nigga
Hood Billionaire