Get back, get back
Yeah (Wop)
Ha, yeah
Ha
Man, this sh#t crazy
I’m in Miami with Gucci, Rolls Royce look like flavors
This murder sh#t ain’t nothin’ to me, whackin’ sh#t on the daily
Lil’ b#tch say she ain’t heard of me, told the lil’ b#tch she gazin’
Still trappin’ up out my flip, wish I could go trap out my pages
I see these n#gg#s hatin’, I ain’t losin’ sleep about it, though
Members creep like TLC, .223 shells out the Jeep
No one gon’ take care of me the way that I take care of me
Get booked in from security, your bodyguard ain’t scarin’ me
Put your friend in therapy, you know I did it, barely live
Askin’ me, “Take care of it,” I squash it if I pay the bills
I don’t plan to take his gang to play, no, I don’t play with them
I don’t freepick n#gg#s, when I beef, I show no favoritism
Lil’ boy still need training wheels, these army guns, not baby pistols
All these folks and babies in my house, I’m like a babysitter
But sh#t get frenzy, twin F&N’s, stand on ten, I raised the n#gg#
Police keep on tasin’ n#gg#s, one shot killed him, matched the n#gg#
Shiesty, that’s my dawg, no winsky, ain’t no way I’m tradin’, n#gg#
No shade, I’m too rich to fade, he ran up, so I blazed the n#gg#
Man, this sh#t crazy
I’m in Miami with Gucci, Rolls Royce look like flavors
This murder sh#t ain’t nothin’ to me, whackin’ sh#t on the daily
Lil’ b#tch say she ain’t heard of me, told the lil’ b#tch she gazin’
Still trappin’ up out my flip, wish I could go trap out my pages
Sent your mama to snitch on me, man, these n#gg#s some b#tches
Makin’ posts, sendin’ threats and sh#t, where I’m from, man, it’s snitchin’
Might jump out on your block with the semi and get to tickin’
Race to you with this choppa, stand over you ’til you finished
My n#gg#s icky, so many choppas in one car, man, look, this sh#t ridiculous
We drove fourteen hours from Memphis with dope and some Glizzies
We keep steppin’ and keep on spinnin’, we constantly be sendin’
Choppa Gang run the city
Man, this sh#t crazy
I’m in Miami with Gucci, Rolls Royce look like flavors
This murder sh#t ain’t nothin’ to me, whackin’ sh#t on the daily
Lil’ b#tch say she ain’t heard of me, told the lil’ b#tch she gazin’
Still trappin’ up out my flip, wish I could go trap out my pages
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate and an Apple Partner, we earn from qualifying purchases
Gucci Mane – Workout
Gucci Mane – Standing on the Couch
Gucci Mane Lyrics – Shit Crazy