Lyrics Ugly - Pooh Shiesty, Gucci Mane

Ugly

Snuck in the club with a ten-millimeter, regular clip a dozen
And this Gucci backpack filled with racks, try something, I press that button
I break that automatic folding chop out my Louis V luggage
Still got respect for all the old hoes, rode my dick when I was nothing
Got some money, now I’m fucking twin sisters, mamas, cousins
Ayy, SRT beat up the streets, do donuts, I be buckin'
Hydro shots up in the clip, he live then he lucky
AK with the stock, the knife look like it came from Chucky
Beef like Jason with the mask off, you play, this shit get ugly
My clip get emptied every shootout, ain’t a time that I won’t bust it
'Fore a nigga T-shirt me, it’s breaking news and I’m the suspect
Put your face on Fox 13, now it’s R.I.P.
from the public
I make sure you straight for life, just send the drops if you love me, blrrrd
Glizzy with the stock hold a fifty and thirty clip (Yeah, yeah)
We throw ones up in the air, raining on bitches while they strip
Think 'bout your folks over there 'fore you play, everybody gon' get killed
This shit get ugly, you see all black, hoppin' out, let 'em rip
Shit get ugly, everybody with me thuggin'
We keep that pistol out, no regular clips, we loud, you know we clutching
I stand formal with my gang and ain’t no nigga gon' do nothing
Snuck in the club with a ten-millimeter, regular clip a dozen (Damn)
And this Gucci backpack filled with racks, try something, I press that button
(It's Gucci)
I break that automatic folding chop out my Louis V luggage
Still got respect for all the old hoes, rode my dick when I was nothing
Got some money, now I’m fucking twin sisters, mamas, cousins
I just Louisville slugged that lil' boy like I’m from Kentucky (Baow)
The chopper knocked him out his shoes and now that bitch on crutches (Well,
damn)
We don’t call police, get in the streets and get our justice (Yeah)
Gon' get past ugly playing with me, that shit gon' get disgusting
My young niggas lay on you 'til they muddy and musty (Stinky)
It be fun and games 'til your clip running out, getting busted (Go)
I don’t trust nobody like my strap, that’s where my trust is (My strap)
It ain’t that much love left in my heart, I can’t adjust it (Nah)
I been stacking rackades in the attics, they getting dusty (Yeah)
And I been shooting since sixteen, I got good aim, I ain’t rusty (I'm not rusty)
People say I’m sheisty just like Pooh, they scared to trust me (Just like
Shiesty)
Like Training Day, get done like Denzel got done by them Russians (Krrah, krrah)
Shit get ugly, everybody with me thuggin' (Thuggin')
We keep that pistol out, no regular clips, we loud, you know we clutchin'
I stand formal with my gang and ain’t no nigga gon' do nothing (Ain't no nigga
gon' do shit)
Snuck in the club with a ten-millimeter, regular clip a dozen (Blrrrd, blrrrd)
And this Gucci backpack filled with racks, try something, I press that button
I break that automatic folding chop out my Louis V luggage
Still got respect for all the old hoes, rode my dick when I was nothing
Got some money, now I’m fucking twin sisters, mamas, cousins (Blrrrd)