Yo Gotti, Kevin Gates - Ion Feel 'Em Lyrics

Got beef with a nigga on Twitter, you a hitter
Gun emoji on they comment, you gon' kill 'em
I don't believe these niggas
I ain't with these niggas
I don't get these niggas
I don't feel 'em

And you got eggs 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 niggas
I don't fuck with these niggas
These buster-ass niggas, 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

I just woke up to some Twitter beef
Social gangstas, them niggas 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 nigga
Shit different, my nigga
We don't do comments
These young niggas shoot pistols, my nigga
Drug dealin' on the 'gram, you got the eggs for sale
Are you a Microsoft plug, you got threats for sale?
These niggas uploading guns and shit
Can't make bonds and shit
When you gon' post your whole life, how you gon' run?
These niggas ain't thinkin', these niggas foolish
And me, I'm just coolin'
Kickin' back, like who they think that they foolin'?
These niggas ain't G, these niggas ain't me
These bitches really ain't bad, like they on I-G
In person, might think it's a whole 'nother person
Nigga 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
Nigga quick to post some shit that they can't even buy
Nigga 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

Got beef with a nigga on Twitter, you a hitter
Gun emoji on they comment', you gon' kill 'em
I don't believe these niggas
I ain't with these niggas
I don't get these niggas
I don't feel 'em

Took a trip out the city, bein' escorted by [?]
Just had come back from out the row, but I got caught in the district
Paper-thin, gettin' skinny; class-2 and a felony
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 hold a hammer and nail, pistol and an umbrella
The clip [?] I'mma [?]
Get too close, I'mma scalp him
Jump up out the Benz, [???]
What that is, a Beretta?
[??] 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, it's cold-hearted every day in the streets
Stood on avenues with [?]
They won't work, I'mma flood
Even when it's hot, I thug
Make 'em work for the boss
(Got it like what if I go to jail?)
They gon' work for a boss, fuck