| Geah, geah, geah, yeah
|
| Gucci, Gucci, huh, huh, huh, ha?
|
| Gucciracci baby, Gucci Gucci
|
| Cocaína shawty
|
| When I see my plug this how I talk to 'em
|
| And when I serve my folks this how I talk to 'em
|
| When I’m with my dogs dis how I talk to 'em
|
| It’s Gucci Mane, Laflare, I’m fin' to talk to 'em
|
| To my guala, my partner, molta manana
|
| Gracias, de nada, brought me years of dollars
|
| Que pasa amigo? |
| Cocaine more bonito
|
| Cohina mucho es grande on the repo
|
| Ese el pablo, my barrio your barrio
|
| Comprende my friende you speak real good ingles
|
| Six hundred Wednesday, five thousand Tuesday
|
| El nombre es Gucci, no punta, no pussy
|
| Coronas and kushi, kilos and elbows
|
| Chito seritos, they come from Mexico, there he go
|
| Twenty tacos and it got me fifty burritos
|
| S550 Mercedes on Flat Shoals
|
| Que pasa, manana, my guala guala my partner partner
|
| Love to treat a nigga to a steak and a lobster
|
| Now a nigga owe them a million dollars
|
| Got me making ten G’s an hour, money’s power, time is money
|
| You don’t know the nigga then serve the dummy
|
| Serve the junkies then ride Ashantis
|
| When I see my plug this how I talk to 'em
|
| And when I serve my folks this how I talk to 'em
|
| When I’m with my dogs dis how I talk to 'em
|
| It’s Gucci Mane, Laflare, I’m fin' to talk to 'em
|
| What the bumba claat? |
| My trap spot, dreadlocks and rastas
|
| Rude boys and rude girls, Jamaican mobsters
|
| I shot the sheriff, smokin' Bob Marley
|
| All of this ecstasy is killin' me softly
|
| Turgo and curry, mid grade so pretty
|
| Sex spot my ex-spot, can’t dodge that red dot
|
| Smokin' the lah-lah, can’t get no higher
|
| Where is me iya? |
| She sends me fiyah
|
| Where is me lighter? |
| Look at me ice-a
|
| Step up your neck piece, I like your wife-a
|
| I pack a rifle, I loves me life-a
|
| Put up your hands 'fore I put up my rifle
|
| When I see my plug this how I talk to 'em
|
| And when I serve my folks this how I talk to 'em
|
| When I’m with my dogs dis how I talk to 'em
|
| It’s Gucci Mane, La flare, I’m fin' to talk to 'em
|
| What’s up nigga, what it do? |
| I’m good my nigga, how are you?
|
| Half a chicken, whole chicken, quarter chicken, what it move?
|
| Bentley coupe on Bentley shoes, hell naw them ain’t 22's
|
| Still keep coke in inner tubes, plottin' on my next business move
|
| Twenty-six inch tennis shoes, old school painted Maserati blue
|
| Brought my gun, but forgot my roof, pullin' up wit’cha baby boo
|
| Ooh ooh, it’s you know who, it’s NASCAR baby what you gon' do
|
| Looking for somethin' thick I can screw, paint change and my diamonds too Trap
|
| nigga watch remindin' you
|
| My grill and rang be blindin' you
|
| If you a stubborn artist I’m signin' you
|
| I’m still the same nigga that be shinin' too
|
| Trap nigga watch remindin' you
|
| My grill and rang be blindin' you
|
| If you a stubborn artist I’m signin' you
|
| I’m still the black nigga that be shinin' too, bitch~!
|
| When I see my plug this how I talk to 'em
|
| And when I serve my folks this how I talk to 'em
|
| When I’m with my dogs dis how I talk to 'em
|
| It’s Gucci Mane, La flare, I’m fin' to talk to 'em |