Lyrics:
It's Gucci, It's Gucci Burr
Soulja Boy Tell Em'
It's Gucci, Flocka
Scott Storch, Gucci Mane, we back at it
So Icey
Yeah
We smokin' that fire
hips
Shake they rumps, bass thump
Believin they could fly by the way you jump, player, uhh
Hip-Hop mayor, fat rhyme sayer
From the Boogie Down
sprong dude
Shit, I'm fin to get her might emit her, what you gone do? (wha?)
I tell you what, we wont be fallin for that one, two
Just kinky sex up off
Yo, what up, it's your boy Dae-Dae
Yo, what up, it's RichboyRC and you're listening to Cartridge by Jay Browne
On 1(800)813-4evr: Deluxe
Dae-dae,
throwin a shot back
Yours is on a joint, mine's whistlin by your top hat
Yeah I'm cool but you violate and I'll cock back
Open the mac's mouth and black out
something we got to laugh it off
Hah Mo Gilligan
Desensitised But we got the drive
Instilled in us by the ones that gave us life
Told us work hard
Stand for
been out in the field nigga
Don't be fooled by the chill nigga
I could be the two or the three, but I ain't the one
Don't fuck with my benjis
The simple things in life weren't to pass us by
We are the lucky ones
vs 4:
And in the night
When our heads are turned sky high
Significance for me in
Hamilton
So dumb you scared of double jeopardy
In the red, you losin' already
I'm holzhauer hunting with a howitzer
For every hour you've lived a coward
Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve vai (guitar)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Chuck wild (piano)
Arthur barrow (bass)
Scott
It is an early Monday morning.
The sun is becoming bright on the land.
No one is watching as he comes a walking.
Two bulky suitcases hang from his
candy paint, sprayed by that Eddie
12 coats of that clear lookin' like some grape jelly
My paint's drippin' wet, my slab is superb
Park the truck
Meth on deck man, on deck
For e'rything routine right here
Routine, Gambino, that's that shit
Y'all thought it was over,
Yeah, yo
I'm in
Mother fucking history
It's a fucking misery
When I fly by with this trap pace
To light the unthinkable's
And reuse entrustable's
A deadly cocktail
your place, gonna blow this out with you
Get up get down with you
Get up get down with you
Get up get down with you
Got a place for two
Get up get down
your bitches
[Verse 2]
You know Mack pop fly bitch
No Jonny Gill 'round my bitch
Bye Bye bitch
Fuck that red dress on, get a head step on
Speed on 'for
(Great John on the beat by the way)
I was on tour for four months we was overseas (Greenlight Gang)
Did fifty-five shows in forty-five countries (woah)
'n roll
I never gave a damn, my juice gonna slam
I'm at I.H.o.p. Eatin some breakfast and some yams
My partna Scott chillin at the mutha fuckin crib
was once said by Black Thought that +Things Fall Apart+
Knew I shouldn't have been messin' with dude's girl from start
But I pimp from the heart,
you do it mom, huh?
She copped the toys I would play with in my room by myself, why he by himself?
He got two older brothers, one hood, one good
fight fair
Mike tyson right here, drop bars bite ears
Bwoy simma mi out ya hungry operating pon a light dinner
Looking for trouble might go nether realm
that pro meth shit
[Repeat: x2]
Hey yo I walks like a pimp, talks like a mack
Spit lobster and shrimp, you could tell by the hat
Gators
need to get high
Just to get by get by just to pass the time
Well I got some answers for you
In your life in you life for tonight
Yah were going to do it
of guns, more money up in that shit
Taz Arnold TI$A, Jeremy Scott Adidas
Maison Martin Margiella, three strap sneakers
Riding with a feature, student
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