Gucci-Bag Shawty (feat. Super Kool'in)

Yeah! They call me Gucci Bag Shawty Gucci Bag Shaawwtttyyy... Yeah! A.k.a. Gassed-Up Shawty They call me Gucci Bag Shawty... Keep that Glock 40... Geeked up off of last-night Leaning off that dirty sprit. Gucci Bag Shawty... Keep that Glock 40... Geeked up off of last-night Leaning on that dirty sprite Gucci Bag Shawty... Gucci Bag Shawty... Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag Shawty Gucci Bag Shawty... Keep that Glock 40... Geeked up off of last-night Leaning on that dirty sprite Compliments to the artists departed The underground mix-tape king, not your average local artist The hardest, the smartest, I go super ham retarded I'm a dog like that British Terrier working for target I'm on fi-yer, other rappers they tend to get burnt up If it ain't bout makin' money then it really don't concern us Niggas can't read me, and hoes can't scope me When I'm in your city, in your hood, don't approach me Play with the butterfly and get stung by the bumblebee Gotta know my niggas making bread, like Sarra Lee Your girl gets me to the crib, she tie me down and rape me Every skeet, she telling me, chocolate is tasty Mash potato man pockets full of that gravy Asap be retail-like Macy's Complement to the chief I'm whipping in the kitchen Swear I beat the pot to death They call me Gucci Bag Shawty... Keep that Glock 40... Geeked up off of last-night Leaning off that dirty sprit. Gucci Bag Shawty... Keep that Glock 40... Geeked up off of last-night Leaning on that dirty sprite Gucci Bag Shawty... Gucci Bag Shawty... Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag Shawty Gucci Bag Shawty... Keep that Glock 40... Geeked up off of last-night Leaning on that dirty sprite Yeah, should I gone head and turn up Cali bud in the swisher every time I roll up Two styrofoam lean ever time I pour up Hit the booth and wreck the mic, yeah I'm finna blow up Gucci Bag Shawty, keep that glock 40 Nigga playin' with me, call me headshot shawty Standing in the trap, with the fork, and I'm whipping And my partners on them molly in the trap, you know they trippin' Woodgrain gripping when I'm sliding in the drop Every time I pull that foreign shit, I throw away my top So I, can look at the stars I'm geeked-up with them stars And I'm in the studio, spitin nun but freestyle barz Yeah, Yeah, And I got free barz, free hoes And I hit the mall cash out like I got free cloths A hundred snapbacks, ray bans to match that True Religion Robbin Jeans, yeah the kid clean They call me Gucci Bag Shawty... Keep that Glock 40... Geeked up off of last-night Leaning off that dirty sprit Gucci Bag Shawty... Keep that Glock 40... Geeked up off of last-night Leaning on that dirty sprite Gucci Bag Shawty... Gucci Bag Shawty... Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag Shawty Gucci Bag Shawty... Keep that Glock 40... Geeked up off of last-night Leaning on that dirty sprite