I'm Too Gangsta 2018 Remaster E

Okay, keep it gangsta. Smash through the streets, G'd up, Nigga. Uh-huh. Bonzi J Wells on the beat. Corrupt Young Gotti, Gotti Sinatra, Neo Hoffa, bitch. Yeah, keeping it real G'd up. Tell niggas like this, nigga, I'm fury. Nigga, I'm the Fuhrer. I murder integrity and snipe niggas aura. I puncture the ceiling and put holes in the Floor. I've been running this motherfucker since Eighty-four. Me and Bonzi J, it's a new world. I mesmerize minerals with simple words. Stunting, my vocals heard like hummingbirds. I say shit niggas ain't never heard. Dip in the cut, Young Gotti Corrupt. A nickel for any kind of murder you want. I look so sexified when I hit the lobby. It's a hobby, strong arm robbery. Since my new position, I've been ready for the Lynching. All this unwanted attention, Hannibal the Henchman. Nigga, I'm too gangsta for my foes, My bitches, and my hoes. I'm ghetto, motherfucker, with metal, motherfucker. Stilettos, motherfucker. I'm in this motherfucker to win this motherfucker. Verbally surgical like a dentist, Motherfucker. And I'm too gangsta for my nines, Too gangsta for my rhymes. Take flight like doves and swans. Nigga, I'm out of my mind. I'm too gangsta. I'm too gangsta. For these niggas on the street, better watch your Block. And these bitches step back when I hit The spot. I'm too gangsta. Tell the source I want eighty mics. Not too polite, I'm unladylike. Going crazy raising my baby through this crazy life. So when I take the mic, I release my Hate. Verbally unleash my.38. Looking for trouble, get put in a puddle. You see me, the homegirls rounded up in a Huddle. I hate fake bitches, shake fake bitches. Gail'll come through and quake fake bitches. Yeah, other crews, I just don't trust ya. Gotti trained whole lot of game for a woman. Stunt and spit something, tip something, regretting Nothing. Getting something called respect, so I spit Thunder. A Wonder Woman, richer than Mrs. Drummond. Rock Christian Dior to the floor, You whore. See yourself to the door. Your nigga wants more. See, I'm gangsta. It's all catastrophic, Cadillacs Dropping. Calicos cocking, collarbones popping way Out of socket. Pay out of pocket, Spray out a rocket. They call me NASA. Bullets chase after, they far from asthma. Loss of brain plasma, hydroplane faster. Metamorph real life niggas to Casper. Metaphor rapper, hot metal for bastards who think Fake jackers jack on the block. Push crack in they sock, put Jack in the Box. Kush sack in the Glock, Wolfpack 'til I Rot. We took that Iraq and stormed through blocks Like an Iraq desert. My niggas gat experts, show you how that tech Work. Put you on the news on every local Network. Know about my life, nigga, this is just An excerpt. And a small portion, so feel the Real. Styles is too gangsta for the killing fields. I'm too gangsta. For these niggas on the street, better watch your Block. And these bitches step back when I hit The spot. I'm too gangsta. I'm too gangsta. For these niggas on the street, better watch your Block. And these bitches step back when I hit The spot. I'm too gangsta.