| Guwopo
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| You gotta be rich to hang with me
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| All these. |
| keep blinding me
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| All these diamonds keep blinding me
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| No snitches, no suckers, nah (Mwah)
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| I ain’t with it
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| Zaytoven
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| (Go)
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| She said she don’t got no type, she like the boss type (Boss)
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| A rich nigga that be down to fuck her all night (Lock)
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| Big Guwop in your house, cuff your ho type (Cuff hrt)
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| Old insecure nigga, you a ho type (Go)
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| I told Zay I need the East Atlanta Bay shit (Bay shit)
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| I vote Gucci Mane and Zay as the greatest (Greatest)
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| Niggas mad 'cause they broke and they ain’t relevant (No)
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| I touched a quarter brick and never been broke ever since (Skrrt)
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| I got money, I got power, I’m not 50 Cent (Nah)
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| But I can teach you how to rob, I been doin' it (Yup)
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| Bitch, it’s President’s Day, I’m the president (Gucci)
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| She tryna suck my dick and use that shit for evidence (Huh?)
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| If you come too close, you in rare air
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| Every time I hit the club, I rock a rare pair (Ooh)
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| Twin stones on my finger, and the cut pair (Burr)
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| And they big as real pears, I’m a real player (Wow)
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| I need a towel 'cause I’m drippin' colder, Klondike Bear (Well damn)
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| Need to call a timeout 'cause this shit ain’t fair (Huh?)
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| Bitch got runway shit that she ain’t even wear (Yeah)
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| On a tear right now, man, this shit unreal (Yeah)
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| No cap, no cut, it’s a done deal
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| Playin' blackjack, I took 'em down a fuckin' half a mil'
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| Delusions of Grandeur so call Dr. Phil (Call him)
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| Drop top, red vert, God, take the wheel (Wop)
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| Hah, she know my pockets is swollen
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| She worried 'bout the wrong things, yeah
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| Ninety-nine pair of Balmains, yeah
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| And she be actin' like she know me
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| I can buy you bags, buy you Rollies
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| But I can tell you really need controllin'
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| Before you was my girl, you was my homie
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| Anytime you want, you can hold it
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| I’m an artist, I’m not a sketcher, yeah, yeah
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| I’m a certified flexer, yeah, yeah
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| You buggin' if you think I trust ya
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| That .38 stay in my dresser
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| But they ain’t know that I was messed up, yeah, yeah
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| They must’ve thought I wouldn’t catch up, yeah
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| Now open up and let me stretch ya
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| Do that thing that you be doin' with your leg up
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| I’m a king and I don’t feel no fuckin' pressure
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| I be singin' while I rap, I feel like Usher
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| I’m that nigga, Amiri, got every sweater
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| If you that nigga, nigga, say it with your chest, oh
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| She love my swag, oh yeah
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| I bought her a new bag, I paid a bag for it
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| I’m gon' give it to her if she ask for it
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| And she know I started in the back, oh yeah
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| Girl, I love it when you throw it back on me
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| I’m gon' fuck you good and make you mad horny
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| Swear that I was cheatin', you were black on me
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| Yeah, this is my mood, I’m wearing black all week
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| I used to have that motherfuckin' MAC on me
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| But now I got somebody else to blast for me
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| But fuck it, if I gotta do it, mask on me
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| Yeah, this is my mood, yeah
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| I’m wearing black all week, hah
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| Hah, she know my pockets is swollen
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| She worried 'bout the wrong things, yeah
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| Ninety-nine pair of Balmains, yeah
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| And she be actin' like she know me
|
| I can buy you bags, buy you Rollies
|
| But I can tell you really need controllin'
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| Before you was my girl, you was my homie
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| Anytime you want, you can hold it
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| Anytime you want you can hold it
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| She be worried 'bout the wrong things
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| Ninety-nine pair of Balmains |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Blind, artist - Gucci Mane. Album song Delusions of Grandeur, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп