| Ace Hood, homie
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| Gutta
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| Gutta
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| Ace Hood
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| Brisco, let’s go
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| Just cause I got my cash on check
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| My swag on check
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| Bitches all on my dick
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| And these niggas ain’t know shit
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| Rolling on them thangs
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| Another one’s next
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| Hater blockers is on, they can’t tell me shit because
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| Cause I don’t see y’all
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| Cause I don’t see y’all
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| Cause I don’t see y’all
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| Cause I don’t see y’all
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| Nigga get on my level!
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| A to the C to the E to the H double O D
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| Bitch I’m raised up in the streets
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| Keep it G-U-T-T-A
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| For my niggas serving yay
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| Moving weight and serving packages that pack it in the crate
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| We don’t count that cash every duffle gets weighed
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| Big money I’m paid, bitch I’m feeling myself
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| You can tell I’m getting money Louis Vuitton belt
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| And I wish a nigga would make a move himself
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| See I don’t get money
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| It’s coming out my ass
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| And I don’t fuck with hoes if they ain’t about cash
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| Opa Locka goon, four Chevys and a dirtbike
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| I open up my trap
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| But took it back on the first night
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| Catch me in a Porsche
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| Or maybe on the porch
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| And we don’t get jailed because we don’t go to court
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| Yeah, nigga stunting
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| Your homeboy fronting
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| Talking that shit but
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| He ain’t about nothing
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| I’m looking for a hood rat, call her Stacy
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| She cuss real bad, and she steal from Macy*s
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| I want her so bad, please someone pace me
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| Try and say a hater will soon come hate me
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| Bocce boy, bocce boy, these chopps hit is bocce boy
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| Bag his ass up E-Class, keep the party going
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| Yes sir, I’m certified 3−0
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| Ride till I die, tell them niggas come and see po'
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| And I’mma come see him blast like an airbag
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| Make his body bounce, bounce, twenty five shell count
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| Pussy nigga listen you don’t listen you get hit with fifty missiles
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| Leave you living with the dead, understand that?
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| I got some bitches and niggas that wanna bandwag
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| I double up with the jewels and let my pants sag
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| A hundred stacks in the bag, now where the cash at?
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| Yes, I’m blind so you haters like a cataract
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| What it do, what it is
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| See I don’t talk to police and I don’t play with kids
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| I’m home gutter, gangster, projects
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| I know the block hot, but I’mma open up regardless
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| Yeah, and damn right that coupe going topless
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| Vacant on the I, we do a 105
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| Me and Bris about cash we let it blow in the sky
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| Not let’s blow money, never had more money
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| Now I’m the shit, believe that (Whoa!)
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| I know I got paper I just want a little more
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| I know you bitches talking, so just talk a little more
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| Because baby I’m me, and y’all niggas hoes
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| Let’s go
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| And I’m gone, my nigga you know I got them
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| See, I am just a product, receiving all profit
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| See niggas want to hate, tell them «Silly rabbit, stop it»
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| See, me and Bris stars outer space like Martians |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Can't See Yall, artist - Ace Hood. Album song DJ Khaled Presents Ace Hood Gutta, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп