Stay Ur Distance (Explicit) - Yo Gotti

Lyrics by：Mario Mims/Brytavious Lakeith Chambers

Composed by：Mario Mims/Brytavious Lakeith Chambers

Ayy

Ayy I been quarantined 'cause I ain't f**kin' with n***as anyway

Stay your distance P***y P***y

Yeah Tay Keith f**k these n***as up

First week of that virus

I lost a half a mil' five hundred

Let's see who gon' survive

And who got hustlin' skills hustlin' skills

N***as still outside

They must don't think it's real n***as still outside

Kinda miss southside

I wanna be in that field wanna be in that field

My mask Dior your b***h just hit my phone

I just might smash her more bye-bye

Gave her the d**k the best night in her life

What else you askin' for

Touch my chain I crash of course uh-huh

That's one mission you had to abort

Thug life n***a I'm passionate for it passionate

Back outside can't find the doors

Five six lam' trucks five six cullinans phew

N***a we back outside back outside back outside

N***a we back outside

Chrome hearts amiris a million in jewelry beep

N***a I'm back outside back outside back outside yeah

N***a we back outside

B***h gettin' flewed out asap asap if I like then tap tap

S**t been lit it's 'bout that time

Let them know you back outside

Back outside back back outside b***h we back outside

Back outside back back outside b***h we back outside

I don't want no handgun

I need an A K a whole drac'

Busted-down patek patek she bust it down respect respect

She don't respect no sucker street s**t from her brother

And if you cuff her

You gon' have to buy her that Chanel bag

Before you f**k her

That's on coco

Everything Gucci no logo

Everything platinum no promo promo

Gotti won't go my bro know

At all at all at all

Pack in

No rap money no backends

Thought he was your opp now you're back friends what

That's how a lame get done in dummy bah

I want the money on the front end front

It's murder on all of my run-ins on sight

Twenty-thousand square feet eight-figure cribs

All I can live in facts

I'm the type follow a n***a b***h fly her out

I'm the type pipe her up show her life about yeah

She the type wife-like but not really really

She match my energy twin

She like when I stick the thumb in her butt

Go'n let her cum on the millions uh

Flag on the play b***hes been wildin' out

Ain't no more wildin' out

I got a drum like I'm nick cannon

I'm a street n***a I won a Grammy

I'ma be good word to my granny

Shawty a*s fat just like her mammy

My b***h a job shout to J T

Touched down in Miami I'm on a ski

Two-tone cuban they eighty a piece woo

Bricks spent forty a piece woo

Dugg want forty a verse woo

Big berg in the Honda the purse woo woo

Woo

And we coppin' s**t in the recession n***a

Fire hoes too you know what I'm sayin'

Label tried to give me a new deal

For the twenty mil' what you do

Turn 'em down hah

Back and forth with the plug talkin' about numbers

Pack on the 'hound the hound hound

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