Mike Will Made It - Cases lyrics

[Yo Gotti - Hook (x2)] We cop Rozay by the cases, Forces by the cases Three hundred dollar True Religion, we cop em by the cases Lawyer fight my cases, Gucci's got no laces Bakin' Soda by the cases, in the kitchen doin' the matrix [Yo Gotti - Verse 1] Go up, down, up, down, my top doing the matrix I'll need a model, we don't ride sh** basic Everything kitty, c**aine crazy b**h they hit my phone, they f**ed up my situation DJ droppin' Gotti, dope boy's all went cray Shoot a thousand, bet a thousand, gambling with your savings Kitchen doing numbers, I may need a helper b**h said she wasn't f**ing, so you know a n***a left her Rozay by the cases, rubbers by the boxes They all that I'm the sh**, so how the f** she gon' be co*ky? Yeah these hoes be foxy, yeah, my eyes be rockin' I pulled up in that white cutla**, 4:15 that ba** was droppin' [Yo Gotti - Hook (x2)] We cop Rozay by the cases, Forces by the cases Three hundred dollar True Religion, we cop em by the cases Lawyer fight my cases, Gucci's got no laces Bakin' Soda by the cases, in the kitchen doin' the matrix [2 Chainz - Verse 2] I am gearin' to the money, all upper cases Trap on fire, I stay down the street from Satan Hell on Earth, I say hello to my neighbor Ghetto n***a got a mansion, and I'm still stealing cable Still air force ridin', I should get sky mileage Try me in the club, we gon' whoop your a** inside it All my hoes excited, damn yo weed is quiet Plug getting mad, cause he think I'm gon' retire Just had a case, lawyer ask for a dismissal Real d-boy, I gotta settle for some Christmas Me and Yo Gotti, from Atlanta down to Memphis Getting money I could pay you n***a, fool, pay attention [Hook (x2)] [Yo Gotti - Verse 3] Favorite rapper dead, so the gamin' got borin' Pulled up in some foreign, drop the top and hit the horn Snatched out doin' a hundred, they like Gotti where ya goin'? I got a b**h from THU, I'm 'bout to scoop her from the dorm Yeah, we doin' the matrix, call her children of the corn f**in', somethin' ain't right, 'n she gon' swallow my unborn Friends say she whorrin', talkin' bout she goin' Say she want that Luis bag, I asked her which one It's not a big issue n***a, know my ho can get it I could get your bottle, truckload fill up my whole kitchen Why these n***as b**hin, when they come down to they b**hes All these excuses, all this trickin, man I guess they just ain't get me [Hook (x2)]