Gas Stove – Yo Gotti

Gotti Beethoven, I play keys like a piano
I feel like Desiigner, I got hoes in Atlanta
They say I talk country, they can’t understand my grammar
Bitch I run the mob, I feel like Tony Soprano
Fuck your budget nigga, I just copped a phantom
Your shit soft, when it come on we change the channel
Dough boy all I talk about drugs
When I went platinum, send a plaque to my plug

I’m Gotti Beethoven, I play the keys
And owe everything I got to these streets
Gas stove, gas stove
I want a gas stove

I had 9 ounces in a Ajax box (In my grandma house)
This old money, I used to have a janky watch
This new shit, they don’t care if you fake or not
I’m savage, if I’m fucked up I’ll take your blocks
I’m anti-social so they say don’t social with me
I’m bout my bread and I’ma keep a toaster with me
I’ma keep this strapped, ain’t no holster with me
And I’ma keep it real how it’s supposed to be
I can’t let these bitches get too close to me (too close to me)
Never let no workers bring them folks to me
Fuck a model hood bitch, mine trophy piece
First rapper took that chopper with me overseas
Five million dollar cash the most I ever seen
Ten years ago but that most of these rappers’ dreams
Never show emotion, never make a scene
Just pull up on ’em quietly, let them choppers sing
It’s breaking news with me every time I hit the scene
If we disputin’ you know it’s shots, there ain’t no in between
Never lie to my niggas, sell these bitches dreams
Let ’em fly with my niggas, give them bitches wings
I always kept it real, no matter who in between
I take pride in being real, that shit run in my genes
Trap phone in my pocket, a gun in my jeans
Trap sun up and sun down and do it again

I’m Gotti Beethoven, I play the keys
And owe everything I got to these streets
Gas stove, gas stove
I want a gas stove

Question: Where would the game be without Zaytoven and Gangsta Grillz?