| Uh, Gucci
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| Wanna make love, love, love
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| King of the skreets
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| And when these suckas see me, they should bow to my feet
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| And kiss the ground underneath
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| I look down at the beef
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| That shit childish to me
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| Two hundred thousand to see me
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| And it’s been sold out for weeks
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| Can’t brush shoulders with me
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| These stones in my choker are 2 karats apiece
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| Look like boulders to me
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| Damn, who colder than me?
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| You think he colder than me?
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| You more bipolar than me
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| You talkin' crazy
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| I’m tryna book Beyoncé for my wedding day
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| I’m the type of nigga, spend a million on a wedding cake
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| Niggas hate, but hesitate
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| They hate to see ya elevate
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| I just left out the gym
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| I’m 'bout to take a swim and meditate
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| Woo!
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| Now it’s time to celebrate
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| Ask me why I’m smilin'
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| I say, «'Cause I make two mil' a day»
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| And I might take your bitch and pay her bills
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| That’s how I feel today
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| And I just wanna fuck
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| Don’t wanna chill, that’s how I feel today
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| I’m makin' money like I’m makin' sweet love
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| I wanna make love, love, love
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| She say the money make her wanna make love
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| Wanna make love, love, love, huh
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| Ay yo, ain’t talkin' housewives, but I’m in the Porsche
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| First I’ma scorch her, then I’ma torch her
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| Then I’ma torture her, then I’ma off her
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| A million dollars for a show, they made their off-er
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| Go against Nicki, it’s gon' cost ya
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| 'Cause now it’s fuck ya, intercourse ya
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| I rep Queens where they listen to a bunch of Nas
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| I’m a yes and these bitches is a bunch of nahs
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| Tryin' to win a gunfight with a bunch of knives
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| I win, get off the bench and give a bunch of fives
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| I don’t see her
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| Bitch I’m the greatest, no Kendrick and no Sia
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| I’m the iPhone, you the Nokia
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| Everybody know you jealous, bitch it’s so clear
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| Tell them bum ass bitches to play their role
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| She see my sexy ass every time she scroll
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| I got it in the can, Dole
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| Your career gon' be with Anna Nicole
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| Witcha dumbass face
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| She ain’t eatin' but I swear she got some bum ass taste
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| Text her man like, «Dawg, how that bum ass taste?»
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| Pay your rent! |
| And stay in your bum ass place
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| Oooohhh, oh you the qu-e-e-the queen of this here?
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| One platinum plaque, album flopped, bitch, where? |
| (bitch, where?)
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| Hahaha, ahhhhh
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| I took two bars off just to laugh
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| You see, silly rabbit, to be the queen of rap
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| You gotta sell records, you gotta get plaques
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| S, plural like the S on my chest
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| Now sit your dumbass down
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| You got an F on your test
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| I’m makin' money like I’m makin' sweet love
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| I wanna make love, love, love
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| She say the money make her wanna make love
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| Wanna make love, love, love, huh
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| I love to see the money stack up
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| Hope that we don’t ever, ever break up (up)
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| Wanna make love, love, love |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Make Love , by - Gucci Mane. Song from the album Mr. Davis, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп