Yo Gotti, 8Ball, Bun B - Gangsta Party FAKE lyrics

(Come on and get upohpartyyeah) Repeated
In background throughout song

This ya boy Yo Gotti
Street Tunes Productions
We gon' ask everybody to stand up on this one
D Boys, this a gangsta party
Bun B, Eightball and this ya boy Yo Gotti

All my hot girls bop for me
Go 'head and drop for me d Boys rock with me
Come buy the bar with me
Dime pieces smile for me
And all my gangsta niggas wild for me
Throughout the crowd with me

This for them big, thick fine girls
Diamond-studded belly ring
Niggas who be flippin' that work
Screamin' money ain't no thing car clean
Mouth full of gold with the


Princess cut rocks in it
Back pockets hangin' low because I
Got a Glock in it
Straight out of that Memphis
Tenn Orangemound for y'all niggas don't know
Come flip with a pimp
Let me show ya how to nuke
That swing like I was Nino premro, Fat Boy
Eightball whatever y'all niggas wanna call me
Call me for a hot sixteen I'ma shine in
The booth like a brand new bling
But, I don't sing I bust them flows
That go so tight with the track
Bitches get freaky niggas get crunk and
Don't know how to act
I got the sack roll something
Pop that 'gnac and po' it
Ya fine bitches pop that puss like ya know it

I was movin' 'caine just doin' my thang
Down here in Memphis where we off the chain
Now, turn the top on my sixty-seven
Class then I'm switchin' lanes
I done served a fiend, sipped the lean
Twenty-four inches don't cloud my screen
Roll candy paint, blowin' purple dank
They claim grip grain but I know they ain't
I'm posted in the club, we can get it poppin'
Ya violate my gangsta partner
Then it's bodies droppin'
I just come to party, get at shorty head
Do my thang
Spit some game you know how Gotti play it
I'm like all these hoes gon' get it man
One of these hoes gon' get it man
From the 'Mound to the west to
The north to the south
Yo Gotti gon' represent it man
No fitted man just a head band
Polo shirt and some Birdmans
Still thugged out and it ain't no secret
I got my paper out the drug zones
I got my paper out the gutter man
Sellin' bud man with my brother man
If you a North Memphis raised
During my D Boy days
You'd see why Gotti still love the game
My wrist, my neck, my ear, my hand
My mouth look like a light show
Yo bitch, my bitch, his bitch
Her bitch just hit the flo' and get it low

This for all my street niggas and bitches
From M Town to H Town free Pimp C, shit

Here we come, we keepin' it trill
Ain't no need to ask if you see
Ain't nobody gon' keep it triller than me
Myself and I that's Bun B
I'm a G, I'm a boss
I grip grain and I sip lean
I'm ball all out with the biggest G's
And spit and throw the sixteen
When it come down to the south you
Know that I'm holdin' the key
I be in the Caddy rollin' on
Women damn near older than me
Them screens six inches or better
The stitches in the leather
If the trunk is popped it'll show
In neon get it together
Cuz when I pull up at the valet man
Eyes is wide and them jaws is droppin'
Steppin' out the freshest clothes
Brightest ice man the show is stoppin'
People start oohin' me eyein' soon
As they see us women wanna be with us and
Fellas they wanna be us
We the G's and don't try to fight it
Got dro and we fixin' light it
Laid back and that thang up on
Us we startin' to get excited
I'm ballin' with Yo Gotti and
Eightball two of Memphis tightest
Cuz we havin' a gangsta
Party man everyone's invited