Lyrics Lawnmower Man - Gucci Mane

Lawnmower Man

Don’t let your mouth write a check that your ass can’t cash
I’m the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Gucci Mane make a nigga wear a shit bag, acting bad
Like a kid at Six Flags, I’ll send some slugs at your bitch ass
In my hood, ain’t no love for your bitch ass
Fifty pounds in a trash bag
Anybody move then that nigga get blast at, hit a lick for about fifty stacks
Niggas' tripping, talking about Gucci bring the money back, half a brick
And I’m bunking that, I’m in the trap where the junkies at
I’m getting fat, fuck a jumping jack, Zay'
Drop a track, the whole industry be jocking that
I’ll put a hole in your stocking cap, work you like a bitch at the Body Tap
I stay strapped, blow you off the map, niggas' hate behind my back
But when they see me give me dap
Don’t let your mouth write a check that your ass can’t cash
I’m the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Uh, I’m from the hood, I’ll punch your lights out, I took your jewelry
Now I’m iced out, Gucci Mane got that 'caine in, I swear
I’d never tuck my chain in, you’re just a thug in training
I’m a thug entertaining, really, I’m a street nigga, that chopper on the seat
Nigga, I’m ready for that beef, nigga, Young Gucci’s got to eat
Nigga, I guess I’ll see you when I see you, nigga, I wouldn’t want to be you
Nigga, now, ain’t that like a nigga, trying to sound like a nigga
A lover not a fighter, nigga, but let me see your lighter, nigga
Don’t let your mouth write a check that your ass can’t cash
I’m the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
You see the bracelet on my arm, my necklace, my charm
I’m dangerous and armed with grenades and bombs, y’all done slumped out
With tons of ones, in the club, putting on like I’m 'Dapper Don'
Yours truly, Young Gucci, all I do is hustle hard, never had credit
But used my tool as a Mastercard, grimy and gritty
Hotter than cooking with lard, Gucci Mane on the block again
And I’m cooking you boys, it’s that grown ass shit, nigga, bring all the toys
When I snap they’ll have to call the lieutenant and sarge
Bring the whole entourage, since you thinking you hard
And watch how quick I load the chopper bullets, you’ve got to dodge
Uh, Gucci Mane on the track, nigga, Zaytoven on the track, nigga, Big Cat
La Flare, nigga, I’m the lawnmower man, nigga
Don’t let your mouth write a check that your ass can’t cash
I’m the lawnmower man and your ass is grass