Get It Poppin (freestyle) - Mistah F.A.B.

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Poppin' (Freestyle)

Yo Gotti

Yo Gotti kicks off his EP with a freestyle of Rico Richie’s hit song Poppin.

Got a bunch of guns, but ain’t shot 'em

Why you got a bunch of guns, but ain’t shot 'em?

If you ain’t got no haters, you ain’t poppin'

When I be in the A, I be poppin'

King of Compound, ask

I be dead fresh, I’m stylish

If water around the house, that bitch an island

Late night, got a bitch on Fallon

Brand new 'Rari with the stripes

I be in the kitchen, I’m the chef

Dope ain’t coming back, I got to get it right

Don’t make me fuck your bitch, that pussy poppin'

We be ballin' like we hit the lotto

We some real niggas, that’s the motto

We be in the club, where the sparklers at?

I just sold a brick now I got bread

Fell in love with a ratchet, but get model head

Boy I got the 40, it got hollow heads

And you a yes nigga, you a bobble head

My money out the banks and hit to Mexico

El Chapo just escaped, I’m trying to double that

Free Big Meech and Free, we need blessings

I’m a dopeboy, where the legends at?

I just moved to Miami with the

Shoutout to and

I be with the Haitians in Little Haiti

Caught a dirty, damn near violated probation

Called my mama from the bank, told her we made it

Bitch asked me if the pussy good, told her I hate it

And she lyin' to her friends, saying I ate it

But I only on the head, we never dated

If you ain’t got no haters, you ain’t poppin'

Why you got a bunch of guns, but ain’t shot 'em?

Niggas watching in the closet, see you plottin'

Boy you a fuck nigga, you ridin'

Why you got a bunch of guns, but ain’t shot 'em?

Got a bunch of guns, but ain’t shot 'em

Why you got a bunch of guns, but ain’t shot 'em?

If you ain’t got no haters, you ain’t poppin'

This that big money shit, that executive shit

This that young nigga with the shirt off in the Lambo shit

This that park that hoe, come back in a 'Rari shit

This that make these niggas jump off the motherfuckin' bridge

You know what I’m talking about?

This that shit

This that have a hundred, this that motherfuckin' buzz down drug

That bitch hate it, this that crib look like a small on them pussies

And we cash that out

You ain’t got no haters, you ain’t poppin'

You ain’t got no enemies, you ain’t street

We built for

CMG!

Art of Hustle

This that understand