Released: March 17, 2015
Songwriter: Gucci Mane
[Hook 2x]
Got my feet kicked up and my top kicked back
Smoking thrax in the back with your girl, what you say about that
If you ever run up, get your wig pushed back
In the club on the trap, it’s a fact, what you say about that
[Verse 1]
Popped so many bottles, I should be a bartender
So much cash on me that I should be a money lender
Moved so many pounds, they think that I’m a bodybuilder
What I spent last night, I could’ve bought an Audi, nigga
Bet a hundred chickens I don’t get no recognition
But fuck some recognition, I just want them hundred chickens
Slapped the top of my new girl like I’m an Indian
My only wish is that them bricks go back to ten again
Wake up, couldn’t cake up, got a king size in my kitchen
Bad bitch, no make-up, neighbors minding their business
In the roof, long face up, in six days or you missing
Don’t pay up, won’t wake up, and leave you sleeping with the fishes
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
It’s a well known fact that I keep big straps
Got them things in my bookbag and I’ma bust back
When lil’ mama seen my watch, baby had a heart attack
Got a Ziploc full of mollies, I call it the party pack
I’m my own fan, I’ma meet myself, so much money, got to treat myself
Call me old school [?], put rims on then I called it a day
Heard that Gucci Mane and them getting money, got ten cars but the show want twenty
Rims so big but the top so skinny, stand next to me, yeah it’ll cost you twenty
Mind your business, don’t cost you any, hold on, wait one goddamn minute
Gucci Mane came in a drop top Bentley, switched up, came in a hard top Benzi
Cool as a fool but sure ain’t friendly, worth more than a pool with no goddamn diamonds
Won’t stop rapping ‘til a nigga start shining, [?] still trapping so a nigga still grinding
[Hook]
Got my feet kicked up and my top kicked back
Smoking thrax in the back with your girl, what you say about that
If you ever run up, get your wig pushed back
In the club on the trap, it’s a fact, what you say about that
[Verse 1]
Popped so many bottles, I should be a bartender
So much cash on me that I should be a money lender
Moved so many pounds, they think that I’m a bodybuilder
What I spent last night, I could’ve bought an Audi, nigga
Bet a hundred chickens I don’t get no recognition
But fuck some recognition, I just want them hundred chickens
Slapped the top of my new girl like I’m an Indian
My only wish is that them bricks go back to ten again
Wake up, couldn’t cake up, got a king size in my kitchen
Bad bitch, no make-up, neighbors minding their business
In the roof, long face up, in six days or you missing
Don’t pay up, won’t wake up, and leave you sleeping with the fishes
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
It’s a well known fact that I keep big straps
Got them things in my bookbag and I’ma bust back
When lil’ mama seen my watch, baby had a heart attack
Got a Ziploc full of mollies, I call it the party pack
I’m my own fan, I’ma meet myself, so much money, got to treat myself
Call me old school [?], put rims on then I called it a day
Heard that Gucci Mane and them getting money, got ten cars but the show want twenty
Rims so big but the top so skinny, stand next to me, yeah it’ll cost you twenty
Mind your business, don’t cost you any, hold on, wait one goddamn minute
Gucci Mane came in a drop top Bentley, switched up, came in a hard top Benzi
Cool as a fool but sure ain’t friendly, worth more than a pool with no goddamn diamonds
Won’t stop rapping ‘til a nigga start shining, [?] still trapping so a nigga still grinding
[Hook]
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