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Artist: Shyheim f/ Chunk Amillo, Gotti Gator
Album:  Enter the Bottom
Song:   We Got
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Shyheim]
Ronell from my projects got sentenced to death
Supposedly he put two shots in two cop's head
My little man Marley G., he right me from the feds
He got caught up in that hoe, conspiracy spread
When they call my voicebox, I don't talk about the block
I talk about stocks and vacate spots
Ah-hah, niggas mad I ain't flop
And I'm taking Bottom Up, straight to the top
I be all over the map, now that parole off my back
And the A in the trap, and Cali macking it crack
And Florida with them gators, I holla at you later
Write your name in my smoke, hater

[Chorus 2X: male singer]
We got money on the block, fiends at the spot
My niggas gonna die cuz a snitch wanna talk
But that's how it is, when you live a hustle
Tell me get mine, get up out the struggle

[Gotti Gator]
In my hood, if you ain't using it, you dealing it
If it ain't Gator Ent., then I ain't feeling it
From Springfield Mass, to Staten Isle, we be killing it
It's Gotti Gator Gator, you know who you dealing wit
A money getter, so I can't respect ya
I'm a chef in the kitchen, I be getting the extras
Send Gators on ya block, and they coming to wet ya
Only reason you were shining is because we let ya
All of a sudden, now you niggas came out the hard ghetto
I punch niggas in the face like Carmelo
Ain't none of you niggas tough, you niggas all jello
And I'mma keep on shining til I'm all settled, yeah

[Chorus 2X]

[Chunk Amillo]
I use ya vest like it's chess, checkmate
With the tech, you was tough til the muthafucking slugs hit ya neck
Having niggas hitting the deck, how we ain't signed
But be cashing them checks, the bosses that polly with corporates
Get Wallstreet chicks, and triple up on them cocaine flips
White fish, straight off the ship, Amillo
Connected and shit, got killas all respected the shit
Got the hood screaming "Gator"
Bitches loving me now, mans wanna slug me down
Fuck, how you want it, fuck a mack or the pound
I'm in the hood like empty crack viles on the ground
Fuck, give 'em the pound, spin 'em around, hugging the ground
Gator Entertaiment holding it down
City to city, doing our rounds, haze by the pound
Coke by the mounds, feds wilding how the paper pile up
We smoking haze with Shyheim out in Staten Island

[Chorus 2X]