Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gutted, artist - Beanie Sigel. Date of issue: 31.12.2006
Song language: English
Gutted |
| Uh, nigga, you’re gutted, your paper on a budget |
| You ain’t got a pot to piss in, no bucket |
| You niggas call ass on facts you can’t cover |
| Your homie got bread, but you dead luggage! |
| Tommy Tucker, neighborhood sucka |
| Your baby mama duck ya, your bitches won’t fuck ya |
| You petty, thief, your name is «Don't trust ya» |
| Better stay out them peoples' store 'fore the cops cuff ya! |
| David Ruffin, Eddie Kane puffer |
| Nights like this, you wish for bread and butter |
| The raindrops fall on your head with no umbrella |
| Fella, eh, you’re broke, you’re busted, you’re gutted! |
| You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain’t buttered |
| Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted! |
| You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget! |
| Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets |
| Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered! |
| Bitch, you’re gutted, your whole twist fucked up |
| Your knees stay scuffed up from sucking that nut up |
| Just to get a buck to get your hair did, done up |
| Your manicuring refill them bare feet cheap heels |
| Or them dollar store Chinese slippers |
| Your weave track slippin', kitchen full of dishes |
| House full of Bébé's Kids that stay shitting |
| Baby bottle empty, your rent check missing |
| You rock Gucci this and that but your kids bummy |
| You letting strangers claim them for income tax money |
| You need a whole foot in your ass, that shit you pulling |
| You weekend looker, you hooker, you gutted! |
| You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain’t buttered |
| Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted! |
| You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget! |
| Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets |
| Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered! |
| You just gon' fake it 'til you make it, huh? |
| Rented houses on MTV, you tapin' them |
| Fine hoes in your videos, you drapin' them |
| Green screens of the projects, you safe in them! |
| Fine cars in your videos, you pay for them? |
| Shit, I can’t knock your hustle, though, you make it fun |
| Dear rappers: you been fooling the public |
| People starting to think y’all real, do something! |
| See what we do when niggas do 200? |
| It’s on like the platinum to us; |
| chew, snuff 'em |
| Back to life, you’re not reality |
| Your salary is like celery |
| We eatin' over here, nigga, you’re like salad to me! |
| Get your weight up, get your steak up |
| Those little acres, get your estate up |
| To face us, you’re gon' need an island |
| It’s imaginary players take 2000, you’re gutted! |
| You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain’t buttered |
| Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted! |
| You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget! |
| Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets |
| Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered! |
| You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain’t buttered |
| Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted! |
| You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget! |
| Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| (You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets |
| Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted |
| When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered!) |