(LYRICS) Yo Gotti - Look In The Mirror REMIX

Yo Gotti is an American rapper and songwriter from Memphis, Tennessee. Known for his authentic storytelling and gritty street narratives, he gained prominence in the early 2000s. He has released several mixtapes and studio albums, achieving commercial success and establishing his record label, Collective Music Group (CMG). With a distinctive flow and impactful lyrics, Yo Gotti remains a prominent figure in the rap industry. Check out the Look In The Mirror Remix Lyrics and Video here…

Look In The Mirror Remix Lyrics

[Yo Gotti:]
6 in the morning, I’m gonna call Wale
Tell J. Cole meet us down in the A
And bring Wiz Khalifa cause the green look pure
We some real niggas
We just looking in the mirror

I’m on fire, whole hood blazing
Hustle game incredible, ice game amazing
Look in the mirror, look in the mirror
Look in the mirror, look in the mirror
Look’s like a chandelier, look in the mirror
Eyes super clear, you looking in the mirror
Who you heard see when you look in the mirror?
If you a real nigga, you looking in the mirror

[Wale:]
D.C. all up in this bitch
Bout time I got my respect
And now these hoes are on my line
Like Sally Mae on college debt
Gotti here, I’m in this shit
Here’s your nigga, come hear this year
I bet you hear that white music
But I don’t mean Top 40 hits
Talk to the mirror
And I don’t need a cure
And when I’m done with this muthafucker
You’ll need an urn
Shopping I’ll be in Paris
Plottin’ don’t even worry
You walk in my closet your favorite stylist will be emburrsed
You out where, we don’t ever see ya
My niggas out here, they spot me like Chippy D
And I’m probably smoking reefer til I got that emphysema
How else can I emphasize I’ll only let the mirror see ya

[Yo Gotti:]
It go microphone check, one, two, yola
Two chains, two guns, he bipolar
Two baby mamas, 3 kids, two Rovers
That’s too many problems, too late to think over
The cars off the showroom, the clothes off the mannequin
Hoes out the centerfold, I be going in at em
One bitch from Howard, another bitch from Grambling
College girl going wild, we gonna need a camera man
Bird talk feather man, Louie jacket leatherman
Fresh to death that bullshit irrelevant
Man in the mirror, I can’t get my shot again
My bitch like a coke bottle, your bitch like a Pepsi can

[J. Cole:]
Mirror mirror on the wall
Bitch, I was born to ball
While you took the summer off my money did a somersault
Backflips, cartwheels, Carolina Tar Heel
Ain’t no nigga touching my style, it got a force field
Magneto, blew up like a torpedo
The view from my condo make hoes say “neato!”
Game strong like the arm on Marino
I stack Cheetos and Doritos like casinos
Fresh to death like I’m buried in a tuxedo
At times I look in the mirror to boost my fucking ego
I say it’s your World, Cole World to be exact
With a flow that’s so thorough, no sir you can’t re-enact

[Wiz Khalifa:]
150 on my chain
Balling, but it’s not a game
High: that’s why they call us planes
All the bitches know my name
I take em home, fuck her, get high and never call again
And my niggas all the same
Now that’s what you call a gang
Hundred thousand dollars and that’s on champagne
Bitches choosing their excuses: my new car’s to blame
Wanna dump a nigga, fuck a nigga with a lot of fame
Don’t want nothing from a nigga; he all kinds of lame
Try doing what you doing but it’s out of range
Niggas taking shots, don’t know how to aim
Don’t know bout you but I see a real nigga
When I’m looking in the mirror
With some diamonds in my ear muthafucker