| The waves in my fade will make a bitch need a surfboard
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| I ain’t on the track like gds, crips, and vice lords
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| Plus latin kings if ya bang throw yo rag up
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| Whole clique flagged up, zone ghetto tags up
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| Black car, white guts, you can call it oreo
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| Gucci bring pies to yo door like he dominoes
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| Soldier like Geronimo my house big as the pinnacle
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| Used to trap at Texaco but now I’m finna buy the one
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| Rims on my M, bitch a trim, wanna lay with him
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| Slim with the tilted grill, flossin all the diamond gems
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| Actually trapping got me counting cash rapidly
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| Wheels spin backwardly, Bricksquad factory
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| Pressure, Pressure, these boys under pressure
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| I know he a college boy I heard he a stepper
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| Hydro, Eyes low, Whoo Da Kid and Gucci Mane Oh No
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| All I know is click cock, hit pop I can’t let this shit stop
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| Just to see is everything, that’s go help my shit pop
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| Whoo da King, Whoo da Kid whatever you call me bitch
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| But I’m not Alfamega never turn my back and turn snitch
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| Red Maserati peanut butter seats will kidnap you
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| Running day shit I call that my rotten apple
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| I don’t need no chauffeur I can drive that shit my fucking self
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| Ooh my smoke my Glock my bro I’m strapped in here with no seat belt
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| And I move the punchlines I’m pimpin the track
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| Ol cliffhanging nigga stop swinging on the sack
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| What’s that shit he said about homie run it back
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| Track work studio so everything is crack
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| Pressure, Pressure, these boys under pressure
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| I know he a college boy I heard he a stepper
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| Hydro, Eyes low, Whoo Da Kid and Gucci Mane Oh No
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| I don’t got no brain no more my brain probably in lost and found
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| If you find it give it to me I’ll give you 800 thou
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| Million worth of jewelry on, when now, right now
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| Bling blaow, your out, kids see it’s safe now
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| Chopper size of you shower, rims bigger than your house
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| When you see me girl smile, I stay for a lil while
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| In the back with a strap and the clip don’t crack
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| 10 pounds of loud, 200 thou
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| My dead homies could see me now
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| I bet I make sun valley proud
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| Bouldercrest my stomping ground
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| Stand 10 toes down to stomp you down
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| 40 Glock you double pump you
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| Fucking fuck ya Wacka trunk you
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| Gucci Mane invisible mane I’m right man can’t see me lame
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| Rims so hot like stove top stuffing, lil pussy ass nigga…
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| Pressure, Pressure, these boys under pressure
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| I know he a college boy I heard he a stepper
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| Hydro, Eyes low, Whoo Da Kid and Gucci Mane Oh No |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Pressure , by - Gucci Mane. Song from the album The Movie Gangsta Grillz Pt. 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп