“Live From The Gutta Lyrics” sung by DC The Don represents the English Music Ensemble. The name of the song is Live From The Gutta! by Dee B, Tilly & DC The Don.
Live From The Gutta Lyrics
[Part I]
[Verse]
Yeah, Ferragamo white Tee
N^^gas OD, comin’ through blastin’
Rick Owens my feet, too exaggerated, n^^ga stop gassin’
You ain’t really like that, blow your city up, n^^ga start laughin’ (Haha)
Yeah, n^^gas too goofy, beat a n^^ga a^^, n^^gas old fashion
You are not goin’ n^^ga, n^^gas not piped, DC everlasting (What?)
Reporting Live From The Gutta, n^^gas too lit, live broadcasting
[Part II]
[Intro]
What, woah, what, what
Aye, hahaha
[Chorus]
Hold on, posted up
My n^^gas really found yo’ crib and they posted up
.45’s in the back room on that dro s^^t
Ain’t no surprise, I’m in the bathroom smokin’ dope, b^^ch
Yes, bro, take a guess, bro, hit yo’ head, bro, I’m next, bro
Go check my [?], that’s easy flex, hoe
It don’t matter if you got a motherf^^kin’ vest, bro
This headshot just pop him in his face, that’s instant death, bro
[Verse 1]
Yeah, f^^k what he say, he gettin’ peeled (Yuh)
You wanna race? A young n^^ga dipped
I’m in that ?
Like it’d get critical, n^^ga
My young n^^gas still going digital, n^^ga
Got a P.E. b^^ch, it got physical, n^^ga
Send my young n^^gas out to get rid of you n^^gas
Um, like that’s a bet, bro
I just got seven zeroes on my motherf^^kin’ check, bro
I’m really cashing out, my Chinese b^^ch gon’ whip a n^^ga eggroll
This lil’ bitty b^^ch got blessed (Yessir)
You better knuck if you buck
Lil b^^ch, it’s up, a n^^ga said so
Like I said, f^^k that boy, he a p^^sy, he tryna start fights with the gang
I’m a demon, lil’ bro, we are nowhere the same
I woke up and I’m running straight, right to the bank
I got gold on my body, b^^ch, I’m Ja Morant
Then I pull off, skrt, I might slide in a tank, n^^ga, on gang
I just walked in, they like “There go Daij”
Like hold up, b^^ch, get out my face, sheesh (Yeah)
[Chorus]
Hold on, posted up (What)
My n^^gas really found yo’ crib and they posted up (Skrt)
.45’s in the back room on that dro s^^t
Ain’t no surprise, I’m in the bathroom smokin’ dope, b^^ch (What, what)
Yes, bro, take a guess, bro, hit yo’ head, bro, I’m next, bro
Go check my [?], that’s easy flex, hoe
It don’t matter if you got a motherf^^kin’ vest, bro
This headshot just pop him in his face, that’s instant death, bro (Aye)
[Verse 2]
I don’t gotta trip ’bout no check ’cause I know that I’m really up (Yuh)
Go ask Brandon, we just made a milli’, huh (Let’s go)
We in Hollywood hills, what’s the dealie, bruh? (Yuh)
Like if there’s a list of the greats, I’ma be on it
I got a brand new Hellcat with a D on it
I got them VVs diamonds right up on my motherf^^kin’ neck, watch a young n^^ga ski on it
[?] keep rolling back, [?]
I’m in the stu’ and I’m smoking on thrax
Hellcat all black, b^^ch, yeah, hold up, get back, b^^ch (What?)
You touching my style? Don’t do that, b^^ch
[?]
I’m out back and I need me a bad b^^ch, facts, b^^ch (Woo)
[Chorus]
Hold on, posted up (B^^ch)
My n^^gas really found yo’ crib and they posted up
.45’s in the back room on that dro s^^t (Aye)
Ain’t no surprise, I’m in the bathroom smokin’ dope, b^^ch
Yes, bro, take a guess, bro, hit yo’ head, bro, I’m next, bro (Yessir)
Go check my [?], that’s easy flex, hoe
It don’t matter if you got a motherf^^kin’ vest, bro
This headshot just pop him in his face, that’s instant death, bro
Video Song
This is the end of “Live From The Gutta Lyrics”.
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