Lyrics Fat Pockets - Gucci Mane

Fat Pockets

I got fat pockets\nI don’t like a wallet\nI got fat pockets\nMoney in the closet\nI got fat pockets\nAbout three deposits\nHundred-fifty k\nHaters can’t stop it\nMoney and the power\nThink I’m selling powder\nSipping drank, got me leaning\nLike the Eiffel Tower\nMoney in the shower\nHundreds getting wet\nSell it to you wet\nI’m all about a check\nMy pockets got the mumps like Professor Klump\nGucci on the run, put a shorty in a slump\nI’m in the foreign, so the front, Yeah, that’s where the trunk\nAnd I’m so hood, park the 'rari, come back in a donk\n(Catch up!)\nI got fat pockets\nI got, I got fat pockets\nI got fat pockets\nI got, I got fat pockets\nI got fat pockets\nI got, I got fat pockets\nI got fat pockets\nI got, I got fat pockets\nI got fat pockets\nI got, I got fat pockets\nI got fat pockets\nI got, I got fat pockets\nI got fat pockets\nI got, I got fat pockets\nI got fat pockets\nI got, I got fat pockets\nSee the battle of the bands in myfucking pants\nHundred grands worth of dead, old white man\nYellow Red, Drop-top, it’s the redskins\nEnough jewelry to make a young bitch’s head spin\nHaters mad, looking at me like «It's you again!»\nAnd nigga its lonely at the top, but I can buy a friend\nI got some twins in the back, think I’m a fly em in\nAnd when they land, it’s a movie or a drive-in\nAnd I don’t see these pussy niggas like a blind man\nIt’s East Atlanta, but I nicknamed it The Crimeland\nAnd my bank account pregnant from my right hand\nAnd my crew get wasted like a Rock glass\nOut with the bird, park on the curb\nStill get paid on the first and the third\nSplurge with an urge, goons on the go\nWaiting on Gucci Mane just to give them the word\nFirst 48, I killt the parking lot\nBig blunts of kush I spark a lot\nOffset forgs, they sticking out\nPark that bitch in the 6 a lot\nHundreds in my pocket, they falling out\nEvery little week, I’m balling out\nTop-drop, bay is falling down\nOn Pea-Tree Avenue I’m falling down\nOn pancakes, this rattle snake\nSliding round on a\nLike a hovercraft, giving autographs\nWish my gran' could see me now\nBig Kid say he want to be me now\nTell the truth, I wanna be me too\nWant a fly on the wall with a bird’s eye view\nMy whole life should’ve been pay-per-view\nRock solid, make good profit\nBut I wish I had like ten pockets\nThugged out, then plugged in\nI think I got like ten sockets