Letra de Stay Ur Distance - Yo Gotti

Ayy

Ayy, I been quarantined 'cause I ain't fuckin' with niggas anyway

Stay your distance, pussy

Yeah, stay your distance, pussy (Tay Keith, fuck these niggas 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)

Niggas still outside, they must don't think it's real (Niggas still outside)

Kinda miss Southside, I wanna be in that field (Wanna be in that field)

My mask Dior, your bitch just hit my phone, I just might smash her more (Bye-bye)

Gave her the dick, 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, nigga, I'm passionate for it (Passionate)

Back outside, can't find the doors

Five, six Lam' trucks, five, six Cullinans (Phew)

Nigga, we back outside, back outside, back outside

Nigga, we back outside

Chrome Hearts, Amiris, a million in jewelry (Beep)

Nigga, I'm back outside, back outside, back outside (Yeah)

Nigga, we back outside

Bitch gettin' flewed out ASAP (ASAP), if I like, then tap, tap

Shit been lit, it's 'bout that time, let them know you back outside

Back outside (Back), back outside, bitch, we back outside

Back outside (Back), back outside, bitch, we back outside

I don't want no handgun, I need an AK (A whole Drac')

Busted-down Patek (Patek), she bust it down, respect (Respect)

She don't respect no sucker, street shit from her brother (Yeah)

And if you cuff her, you gon' have to buy her that Chanel bag before you fuck her

That's on Coco

Everything Gucci, no logo

Everything platinum, no promo (Promo)

Gotti won't go, my bro know, yeah, yeah (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 nigga bitch, 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, bitches been wildin' out, ain't no more Wildin' Out

I got a drum like I'm Nick Cannon

I'm a street nigga, I won a Grammy (Yeah)

I'ma be good, word to my granny (Yeah, yeah)

Shawty ass fat just like her mammy

My bitch a job, shout to JT

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)

And we coppin' shit in the recession, nigga

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

Frrt, frrt, frrt, frrt

Frrt, frrt, beep, beep, beep

Frrt, frrt, frrt, frrt

Frrt, frrt, beep, beep, beep

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