Yo Gotti
Ion Feel Em
[Intro: DJ Drama]
You n***as, man; too social
N***as is too media-like
Tellin' on yourselves, tellin' on everybody else
2015, stop doin it for the 'gram
Do it for your fam, fuckers
(Metro Boomin want some more, n***a)

[Chorus: Yo Gotti]
Got beef with a n***a on Twitter, you a hitter
Gun emoji on they comment, you gon' kill 'em
I don't believe these n***as
I ain't with these n***as, I don't get these n***as
I don't feel 'em

[Bridge: Yo Gotti]
And you got Act for sale on the 'gram
Took a picture from the Lamb
And you got bricks for sale on the town, God damn
I don't trust these n***as
I don't fuck with these n***as
These buster-ass n***as, I don't feel 'em
I don't feel 'em, I don't feel 'em
I don't feel 'em, I don't feel 'em, I don't feel 'em
You a gangsta on Twitter, I don't feel you
Sendin' threats on the 'gram, they gon' kill you
[Verse 1: Yo Gotti]
I just woke up to some Twitter beef
Social gangstas, them n***as tickle me
And my bitch say I'm a deadbeat, on the 'gram
But I burn they head every week
I'm from Memphis, my n***a, shit different, my n***a
We don't do comments, these young n***as shoot pistols, my n***a
Drug dealin' on the 'gram, you got that Act for sale
Are you a Microsoft plug, you got Thraxx for sale?
These n***as uploading guns and shit
Can't make bonds and shit
When you gon' post your whole life, how you gon' run?
These n***as ain't thinkin', these n***as foolish
And me, I'm just coolin'
Kickin' back, like who they think that they foolin'?
These n***as ain't G, these n***as ain't me
These bitches really ain't bad, like they on I-G
In person, might think it's a whole 'nother person
N***a livin' through my verses
Bitches fuckin' just for purses; is it worth it?
But who am I? I will never live a lie, I won't even try
N***a quick to post some shit that they can't even buy
N***a quick to write some shit that they won't even try
Gun emoji, bang-bang; pussy, you a lie
Never shot nothin', never watched nothin' die
How you gon' hash-tag squad, when you ain't ever ride?
Log on, log off; yeah, run and hide
And be on that same tough shit when I'm lookin' in your eyes
Pussy
[Chorus: Yo Gotti]
Got beef with a n***a on Twitter, you a hitter
Gun emoji on they comment, you gon' kill 'em
I don't believe these n***as
I ain't with these n***as, I don't get these n***as
I don't feel 'em

[Verse 2: Kevin Gates]
Took a trip out the city, bein' extorted by six
Just had come back from up the road, but I got court in the district
Paper-thin, gettin' skinny; class-two an offender
What if I get convicted, who gon' take care of my children?
Prayin' harder than ever, know I oughta do better
I be talkin' to God, while I walk with the Devil
Sell the carpenter skills, work in horrible weather
Can't hold a hammer and nail, pistol and an umbrella
The clip watch back I'ma stab him, get too close, I'ma scalp ya
Jump up out the Benz Sprinter, all white Berlinetta
What that is, a Beretta? Character or Sylvester?
Ain't no shinin' when I'm grindin' on my mind is whatever
Mike Brown murder only talked about for a week
They say Gates what's your take? We just wanna hear you speak
Where I'm from, this go on every day in the streets
Stood on allies with Leonard, they won't work, I'mma flood
Even when it's hot, I thug, make 'em work for the bust
(God it's like what if I go to jail?) They gon' work for a bust, fuck it
(Shit, I'ma make them bitches do they job!)