Released: November 5, 2011
Featuring: Yung Joc
Songwriter: Yung Joc Gucci Mane
Producer: Drumma Boy
[Intro: DJ Holiday & Gucci Mane]
Dumma Boy
Oh, it's Holiday season, nigga
It's Gucci, Gucci, s'Gucci, squad, squad, squad
[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
It's Gucci, two times, two nines, copped the 'Rari, two times
Fucked two sisters, two times, swear them bitches too fine (Holiday season)
I'm off the chain, no lie, I'm in the right frame of mind
I don't have time for haters, I'm out here kickin' my rhymes
Two Gucci trucks, two-two busters, me Flockaveli
Nigga we hot, get ready, top of the line, you petty
Stop it, I said it already, deadly, yeah Jason or Freddy
Grill got remixin' no Eddy, you shouldn't've booked me, you get it
What them boy say, I'm with it, any time of day, we killin'
I got a really good feeling I might go kill me some niggas
Fuck what you sayin', my nigga, I'm not with playin', my nigga
I be with layin' in bushes, wakin' up early to drill 'em
[Chorus: Yung Joc]
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
[Verse 2: ?]
My bitches on their period, show you boys I really get
Frag niggas, fall licks niggas, whole Brick Squad we lick getters
Shyste, my hood just like me, mean they love me
Polo man, I'm a scummy, no leg shots, you better scar me
Back in '99 we was rockin' Zirconi's, like we did ponies
Dueces in the foamy, just like Kobe
Every verse is for my dead homies
Get the fuck on, nigga you a phony
Fag boy, fag boy, gun slime my alloys
I mean allies, don't alloys, it's chrome-o
Them 6's, or Westside
[Chorus: Yung Joc]
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
[Verse 3: Yung Joc]
No Twitter talk boy, strictly confidential
Check the way the rims walk on the Continental
I always keep a rack or two just for incidentals
Rapper two on your head and call it fundamentals
Respect it or check it boy, or you could meet your maker
No this ain't a movie, but partner we'll take ya
Just ask my partner Gucci, its all about that paper
Suited for success, Ben Franklin tailored
Keep it a hundon, I like countin' papers
Four thousand ones, blow 'em into vapors
Bitch I am the son of a American gangster
I live by the guns
[Chorus: Yung Joc]
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
Dumma Boy
Oh, it's Holiday season, nigga
It's Gucci, Gucci, s'Gucci, squad, squad, squad
[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
It's Gucci, two times, two nines, copped the 'Rari, two times
Fucked two sisters, two times, swear them bitches too fine (Holiday season)
I'm off the chain, no lie, I'm in the right frame of mind
I don't have time for haters, I'm out here kickin' my rhymes
Two Gucci trucks, two-two busters, me Flockaveli
Nigga we hot, get ready, top of the line, you petty
Stop it, I said it already, deadly, yeah Jason or Freddy
Grill got remixin' no Eddy, you shouldn't've booked me, you get it
What them boy say, I'm with it, any time of day, we killin'
I got a really good feeling I might go kill me some niggas
Fuck what you sayin', my nigga, I'm not with playin', my nigga
I be with layin' in bushes, wakin' up early to drill 'em
[Chorus: Yung Joc]
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
[Verse 2: ?]
My bitches on their period, show you boys I really get
Frag niggas, fall licks niggas, whole Brick Squad we lick getters
Shyste, my hood just like me, mean they love me
Polo man, I'm a scummy, no leg shots, you better scar me
Back in '99 we was rockin' Zirconi's, like we did ponies
Dueces in the foamy, just like Kobe
Every verse is for my dead homies
Get the fuck on, nigga you a phony
Fag boy, fag boy, gun slime my alloys
I mean allies, don't alloys, it's chrome-o
Them 6's, or Westside
[Chorus: Yung Joc]
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
[Verse 3: Yung Joc]
No Twitter talk boy, strictly confidential
Check the way the rims walk on the Continental
I always keep a rack or two just for incidentals
Rapper two on your head and call it fundamentals
Respect it or check it boy, or you could meet your maker
No this ain't a movie, but partner we'll take ya
Just ask my partner Gucci, its all about that paper
Suited for success, Ben Franklin tailored
Keep it a hundon, I like countin' papers
Four thousand ones, blow 'em into vapors
Bitch I am the son of a American gangster
I live by the guns
[Chorus: Yung Joc]
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters
Respect my gang, respect where I hang
Know my gains the nine might bang
We get it off the [?], respect the hustlers
Money over suckers, wish death to them busters