Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Swing My Door, artist - Gucci Mane. Album song Bird Flu, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.07.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Gucci Mane 1017
Song language: English
Swing My Door |
I’m a gold mouth dawg, definition of the South |
Ain’t no quarters, ain’t no halves, just some wholes in 'dis house |
Ain’t no bitch, it ain’t no bed, it ain’t no clothes in dis house |
It’s a drought, and my price will make yo eyes pop out |
I can’t neva count my stash 'cause I always loose count |
I can’t neva keep no bitch 'cause I put them hoes out |
I was corner store and in the motel in it, selling it |
You can check my rap sheet, its numerous felonies |
I took twenty-three stacks, and bought some jet skis |
Have pity for the cop who gotta arrest me |
A front street, jump street, then jump out, itss a track meet |
Use to have a ten-speed, now I got a Bentley |
Swing my door, swing my door |
Every time they swing my door |
I count 18−5 every time they swing my door |
Swing my door, swing my door |
Yeah, them prices real low |
But they gon' search you up and down |
Every time they swing my door |
Swing my door, swing my door |
And you know they swing my door |
And it’s 18−5 every time they swing my door |
Swing my door, swing my door |
Yeah, them prices real low |
But they gon' search you up and down |
Every time they swing my door |
I got my rims finger-fucked by a god dam J |
Gave him 1.8 of some hard ass yay |
It’s a lot of crack smokers in the apartments where I stay |
And I know they name and face 'cause I serve them everyday |
Had a 98' Caprice, was a rollin' drug store |
You ain’t got all the money, what you call my phone fo'? |
Rob me, six feet, in the dirt you 'bout to go |
Layin' with the coroner with a tag placed on your toe |
I can lock the whole town if I break the shit down |
But it might be slow, so I’m sellin' shit whole |
I can lock the whole town if I break the shit down |
But I’m lettin' shit go and I’m sellin' shit whole |
Swing my door, swing my door |
Every time they swing my door |
I count 18−5 every time they swing my door |
Swing my door, swing my door |
Yeah, them prices real low |
But they gon' search you up and down |
Every time they swing my door |
Swing my door, swing my door |
And you know they swing my door |
And it’s 18−5 every time they swing my door |
Swing my door, swing my door |
Yeah, them prices real low |
But they gon' search you up and down |
Every time they swing my door |
Niggas call me «thrift store» 'cause the know the price low |
I count 18 rubber bands every time I swing my door |
Breaker, breaker, beaker, beaker |
Spent 350 on the sneakers |
It came from servin' geekers |
Yella' 'Vette nicknamed Chiquta |
A clear coat Chevy, same color Aquafina |
Quarter million dollar lick, that changed my whole demeanor |
Ridin' a scooter through South Beach, lookin' for a Trina bitch |
Diamond necklace, diamond anklet, diamond princess, Bimmer bitch |
I change lanes, paint change, hangin' out the brain dawg |
Bottles of champagne and it came from sellin 'caine dawg |
Coca-cola, pickin' yola, and it stank, you smell the odor |
When I sk-sk-sk-sk-skrrt, I bet it jump back over, over |
Ridin' in my rental, got a Rover in my pocket, though |
84 stack, 'bout to take a trip to Mexico |
Nigga violate, I’ma kill him and slit his throat |
Smoke a blunt of dro, then take my ho to Pappadeaux’s |
Swing my door, swing my door |
Every time they swing my door |
I count 18−5 every time they swing my door |
Swing my door, swing my door |
Yeah, them prices real low |
But they gon' search you up and down |
Every time they swing my door |
Swing my door, swing my door |
And you know they swing my door |
And it’s 18−5 every time they swing my door |
Swing my door, swing my door |
Yeah, them prices real low |
But they gon' search you up and down |
Every time they swing my door, nigga |
That boy Gucci |
That nigga Burn on the track, nigga |
Yeah, Gucci Mane, La Flare, nigga |
Uh-huh, uh-huh |