conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Live From the Gutter with the following description: Track 13 on No Ceilings 2!
  This is a remix to the the Drake and Future track off What A Time To Be Alive, “Live From The Gutter”. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Verse 1: HoodyBaby]
  You at home broke as fuck doing the milly rock
  I'm in Hollywood with millions, check my Diddy bop
  Sipping Actavis, I put that on my double cup
  Pushing work, man, we got the whole city hot
  Raised up on Jeezy, Jay'd up on Yeezys
  Young Money millionaires, me, T and Weezy
  Sixteen in the peezy
  Another sixteen, that's a PT
  36 that's a keyzee
  Push button start, bitches thought I lost my keys, please
  Trappin' out my haunted house of ghosts, there's some scares there
  And I got that work, homie yeah, yeah
  Finessing all these niggas, I need air fare
  All these diamonds dancing on me, baby very
  I might call them Michael Jordans, I need every pair
  Tell your homie hit my line, I got fishscale
  [Verse 2: T@]
  Certified hustler, yeah, real street nigga
  It took me 31 years to make my first million
  But I ain't trippin', this the beginnin'
  Lost deposits at Chase, no time for chasing women
  All black Porsche slammed on them red mags
  I peel her top back and watch the haters get mad
  They need to stop it, niggas don't like when you
  Balling on them bitches, they just mad ‘cause they ain't got shit
  And niggas with the gossip, ol' Dr. Phil ass nigga
  You might as well go 'head on and start a talk show
  Me and Hoody making big moves off in this Tahoe
  Your bitch travel hundred feet, work off in that rental
  Backstabber smile in my face, showing the dentals
  But you know me, I chunk the deuces at them bitches
  Never stop the chat, I keep it moving on them bitches
  In and out of town and yeah I do it for my city
  East side New Orleans is where a nigga get it
  So have your money right or else I ain't fucking with ya
  And I ain't posing twice so I hope you got the picture
  Ya dig? [Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
  Reporting live from the mother ship
  And I ain't talking nothin' but Young Money shit
  Yeah, I ain't talking no more Cash Money shit
  Yeah, I ain't talking no more, now I'm coming, bitch
  Distorting guys with the cutter
  I'll rob a motherfucker talking all that big money shit
  Got me hustling like I never had shit
  I'm restarting from the bottom, now ain't that a bitch
  But watch me turn this pit into a Brad Pitt
  Yeah, watch me turn this world into a hand print
  The money made me hungry like I'm fastin'
  I see the stars lining up, I feel like NASA
  I seen my homies give up on me like a marriage
  I went back and counted up and no more stunting like my daddy, ah
  Then my bitches hit me up and said she love me like a daddy, ah
  Cuban bitch walking 'round my house like she live there
  Wake up in her mouth, she dribble like Sebastian Telfair
  I see y'all ain't playin' fair, I see you, you layin' there
  You see bitches everywhere, you might see them in Vanity Fair
  My homie got that Danity Kane
  Them shots like planes they landing here
  Oh yeah, and we got them bitches on that wifi
  It's a bird, it's a plane, them bitches sky high
  Back up off me motherfucker, whoa yeah yeah
  Me, T and Hoody feel like Dame, Hov and Ty-Ty
  Me, Mack and Po feel like Lyor, Hov and Tata
  My bitch don't own panty hoes nor a bra top
  Roll up the windows in the Rolls, nigga hotbox
  Cut on some Drizzy in this bitch, we don't cha cha
  Whole time I was ready, ain't no cat and mouse in my fetti
  Ain't no Thomas, ain't no Jerry
  Ain't it really ain't no thang, you niggas really don't gang bang
  I'm with that mob smoking gas, ain't no limit on my tank
  Up, up, up and away, cup, cup, cuppin' all day
  We sipping that oil, we sipping that oil, more oil than Oil of Olay
  You killas don't play, kill 'em on sight in the middle of the day
  Shoot a nigga right in the middle of his face
  Bullet be biting like a venomous snake
  Pussy be tighter than traffic, LA
  We got that white, we traffic all day
  I went from Kool Aid and PBJ
  Now it's champagne and caviar steak
  But still reporting live from the gutter, bitch
  Before I fade away I hit 'em with the stutter step
  Yeah, now before I fade away I gotta stutter step
  Before I fade away I hit 'em with the stutter step
  I hustle like it's nothin', left my woman in her underwear
  My youngin don't wear underwear, I love my -
  Yeah I love my baby mothers, yeah, little hoody ain't no huggy bear
  I represent that grizzly bear, my neck look like a city fair
  Page out the Jungle Book
  , amazed is how your woman looks
  When she see me and all my niggas coming
  Afraid is how your gunners look, we take a finger, tongue or foot
  And mail it to your people, we mean business, get that understood
  Big ol' bag of fuckin' good, a little bad, a ton of good
  I'm pretty like Blair Underwood, she insecure, my gun secured okay
  I'm pretty like Blair Underwood, she insecure, my gun secured okay
  No ceilings