Lyrics

Man, fuck these niggas! I'mma spare everything but these niggas I flip the gun and gun-butt these niggas Take the knife off the AK and cut these niggas Yeah, and fuck these bitches I swear I care about everything but these bitches I don't care, I "so what" these bitches And I put Young Mula, baby, way above these bitches If it ain't broke, don't break it And if he ain't shook, I'm gon' shake him Hope I don't look weak Cause when a wolf cry wolf, you still see that wolf's teeth, mothafucka Futuristic handgun If you act foul, you get two shots and one I'm at your face like Lancôme You niggas softer than Roseanne's son Hey, you cannot reach me on my Samsung I'm busy fucking the world and giving the universe my damn tongue Crazy motherfucker, I am one But the crazy thing is, I began one All white bricks, I'm straight like it's jumping back to 36, nigga Big house, long hallways, got 10 bathrooms, I could shit all day, nigga And we don't want no problems Ok, you're a goon, what's a goon to a goblin? Yeah, and Kane on the beat I fuck around and leave a nigga's brains on the street Ughh, I pop that pussy I bring her to my bedroom and pop that pussy Uh huh, and we be steady mobbin' Oh Kemosabe, big ballin' is my hobby What the fuck is up? It's Gucci Mane the G Ask Tity Boi, no pity boy, this scar city the city boy So icy, so no Nike boy, just Gucci, Louis, Prada, 'scuse me "Gucci Mane keep shittin' on me, why that boy keep buyin' jewelry?" East Atlanta cockin' hammers Bandannas on car antennas No we do not talk to strangers Just cut off these niggas' fingers Gucci's armed and dangerous, cocaine, codeine and angel dust This AK-47 will hitchya everywhere from the ankle up Gun same size as Nia Long, clip long as a Pringles can .45 Desert Eagle on me, you'll think I'm a Eagles fan Toni Braxton sniper rifle, make you never breathe again Fuck that nigga, kill that nigga, bring him back, kill him again (Gucci!) Yeah, the money is the motive Fuck with the money, it get ugly as Coyote Ok, I'm reloaded Better pull it if you tote it I buy a pound, break it down and put it in a stogie Swagger so bright, I don't even need light I'm with a model broad, she don't even eat rice But would you believe that she eat dykes? And she asked me for a picture, so I gave her 3 strikes Yeah, I-I'm the man around this motherfucker I'm so hot you probably catch a tan around this motherfucker This rap game, I got my hand around this motherfucker Yeah I said game, but I ain't playing around this motherfucker Yeah, I'm the best to ever do it, bitch And you're the best at never doing shit If you the shit, then I am sewerage T-try me and I'll have your people reading eulogies I swear you can't fuck with me But I can fuck your girl and make her nut for me Then slut for me, then kill for me, then steal for me And of course it'll be your cash Then I'll murder that bitch and send her body back to your ass And we don't want no problems Ok, you're a goon, what's a goon to a goblin? Yeah, and Kane on the beat I fuck around and leave a nigga's brains on the street Ughh, I pop that pussy I bring her to my bedroom and pop that pussy Uh huh, and we be steady mobbin' Oh Kemosabe, big ballin' is my hobby Uh, man suck my clip Swallow my bullets, and don't you spit Uhh! I am the hip-hop socialist Life is a gamble and I'm all about my poker chips Do you want a dose of this? I will make the most of this 'F' is for ferocious Murder your associates The top is so appropriate This is just where I belong Keep a hard dick for your girlfriend to wobble on And we don't want no problems Ok, you're a goon, what's a goon to a goblin? Yeah, and Kane on the beat I fuck around and leave a nigga's brains on the street Ughh, I pop that pussy I bring her to my bedroom and pop that pussy Uh huh, and we be steady mobbin' Oh Kemosabe, big ballin' is my hobby
Writer(s): O'shea Jackson, George Clinton Jr., Ronald Dunbar, Alan Edward Gorrie, William Earl Collins, Bernard Worrell, Roger Ball, William Nelson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out