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]