Correction Lyrics Geechi Gotti vs. Hollow Da Don by URLtv

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Lyrics

We got Geechi Gotti…versus…
N***a, you’se a b*t*h!
And it’s a gang of examples to prove the fact
You got your a** whooped by a n***a wit’ gla**es
Math said you was in that ocean splishin’ and splashin’
Your ex-business partner said you got on the phone wit’ the cops when it was time to get wit’ that action
So I don’t wanna hear no gangsta sh*t out yo’ mouth
My n***a, I’m warnin’ you
Or it’s gon’ be Hollow in the casket
That’s Da Don in the box: 1942
N***a, I got a .40, too!
I’m in love wit’ guns
Plus I had my run wit’ drugs
I was shavin’ rocks before I even knew what it was
The big homies just told me if the dime was too fat, you supposed to sell it for a dub
Plus I was movin’ the bud to make my count higher
That mean I was good wit’ the Razor and Diesel like the Outsiders
When in doubt, fire
It ain’t no math with this
Go against me? Every n***a in yo’ fraction hit
You know the Order of Operations!
When sh*t don’t add up, my last option is start subtractin’ sh*t!
This n***a asked for this!
I was scary in my prime
Ask my old opps
Them my ex-‘ponents
They the reason why I’m still carryin’ the .9
Every F**kin’ Bar, man

(*The audio on the Caffeine stream cuts out for 16 seconds*)

-I’ll let it spray, it’s not a Secret
I was a kid leavin’ older n***as stinkin’
N***a, you tweekin’!
You tweekin’ if you think makin’ it outta this lifestyle not a blessin’
We ain't headed to the club. but you still gotta watch how you dressin'
And pourin' out liquor for the dead homies is considered bottle service in my section
N***a!
Quit flexin'!
'Cause I don't give a f**k if you got a lil' boy, lil' girl
Dawg-
Listen, I don't give a f**k if you got a lil' boy, lil' girl
When that heat spray
I'll pop your son, daughter
B*t*h, I'm D. Wade!
N***a, you know how WE PLAY!?
This a body! All the fans gon' witness!
Knock you out, then stomp on that L.O.M. clothing
I stand on business!
B*t*h!
You like to put yo' hands on b*t*hes!?
Wait, that's the other Don
I got somethin' big and black to go against these n***as
That's my uncle Thom' (Tom)
N***a, f**k is wrong?
You starin’ at the worst killa
Befo’ IG and Snapchat, I really used to murk n***as
They always looked different in that casket
I’m tryna tell y’all death was the first filter
This ain’t rehearsed, n***a!
I remember shootin’ it like this, and be mad when I missed
Damn, I was p*ssed!
Then the OG told me it’s like “Rock, Paper, Scissors” when you squeezin’ that trigger
Hand over fist!
Every F**kin’ Bar! Make him rap!

Man, you a b*t*h!
Sometimes, that gun be so loud, everything starts movin’ slow
It feel like it don’t even make noise
Dawg, I got the clip wit’ the drum
That’s the magazine wit’ the t**s like Playboy
Aye, listen
Listen, listen
Aye, listen
Aye, boy, I had that AK and I really was ten toes
To Heaven’s Gates I done sent souls
So many bodies on the chopper, it looked like the A-Team intro
N***a, you don’t know what you in fo’
My profession is killin’
I used to listen to oldies like Marvin Gaye when I got prepped for a killin’
I remember I got shot, the bullet got stuck
They said I might be paralyzed
That was a hell of a feelin’
Went home, made my baby mama suck my d**k to see if it still work
Now that was “Sexual Healin’”
N***a, you don’t live how I’m livin’!
If I spray, then shoot
Yo’ chances of survivin’ is zero (Z-Ro), cousin
My tre (Trae) Tha Truth!
Listen!
It’s no escape for you!
If you not there when I spin, I’mma be outside your crib
You still gon’ die in the Future when this Drac’ (Drake) hit you, ‘cause I’ll ‘Wait For U’
B*t*h, there’s no escape for you!
Yeah! It’s no escape for you!
This n***a hit my line when he was in L.A. like, “Gotti, I got some trouble. Could you bring me the steel?”
I’m like, “N***a, just bring it back when you done wit’ the drill.”
Long story short, I never showed up
I was hopin’ bruh would get killed
DJ Envy wife: you shoulda known I wasn’t comin’ (c*mmin’) for real!
What the f**k is the deal!?
I’ve been shot - you don’t wanna be that
I’ve seen death - you don’t wanna see that
My partner beat a murder, came home, got shot
That was my first time seein’ him fight for his life twice
It was a rematch
N***a, we strapped!
Every F**kin’ Bar, man!
Make him rap
Round 1, n***a
Houston, what’s up, cuh?

Gotti…we in Texas
And I’m really wit’ them guys
You know-
(*Hollow takes off his sungla**es and pa**es them to NuNu*)
I need him to see it in my eyes
Enough of the stories
You ain’t live
Y’all call this art?
I feel like I’m watchin’ paint dry
I don’t believe this b*t*h’ll pick up a stick in Shanghai
We know ya mayne died
Ya moms got cataracts, she can’t drive
And at age 9, he dropped out, he was yay-high
Is it a yay high?
I mean, you should be afraid!
This a freight ride!
What he gon’ get saved by? A bell?
When I rock everybody on Bay side?! (Bayside)
Like I said, you in Texas, n***a
Down here, they’ll make Batman sit in jail
Lock up a churchgoer
They’ll deny a Christian bail (Bale)!
I seen a young’un turn cold-blooded
He got sick of cells (sickle cell)
Missed college, and when he got shanked, he ain’t get to yell (Yale)
I know dead n***as TOO, Geechi!

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