lirik lagu glizock & wizop – gucci mane
[intro: key glock]
(bandplay)
g*lock
yeah
[chorus: key glock]
ayy, it’s glizock and guwop, we so icy, n*gga, you not (yeah)
pistol in the party, these young n*ggas with me too hot (yeah)
i ran it up, no bank account, i stuffed it in the shoebox
ninth grade with them things, i felt like a trap god (yeah)
long live my n*gga flippa, b*tch (b*tch), you see these blue rocks (yep)
ayy, i can’t put no money in my denim, it’s just too much
ayy, every time you see me, i got some new ice and like two cups
ayy, not from milwaukee or from tampa, bae, these blue bucks
[verse 1: gucci mane]
it’s guwop and glizock, and this combo gon’ be hard to stop
zone 6 to south memphis, totin’ that pistol like a cop
wouldn’t give me my flowers, i rеwarded myself and bought a watch (burr)
took the fork and scr*pеd the pot (skrrt), it’s off the eye, i shake the pot
i can’t put no money in no n*ggas who ain’t worth it, dawg (no)
confiscated my necklace ’cause these suckers didn’t deserve it, y’all (p*ssy)
seventeen summers later, showin’ no signs of fallin’ off (well, d*mn)
i didn’t even imagine i’d be ballin’ how i’m ballin’ now (go, go)
n*ggas tried to count me out, they miscounted the wrong amount (wrong)
k!llers took, don’t bring ’em up, it’s ’round ’em if i bring ’em out
oh, you got a crash dummy, think before you send him off (huh?)
his brain left on the dashboard, we all see what he thinkin’, dawg (yeah)
[chorus: key glock]
ayy, it’s glizock and guwop, we so icy, n*gga, you not (yeah)
pistol in the party, these young n*ggas with me too hot (yeah)
i ran it up, no bank account, i stuffed it in the shoebox
ninth grade with them things, i felt like a trap god (yeah)
long live my n*gga flippa, b*tch (b*tch), you see these blue rocks (yep)
ayy, i can’t put no money in my denim, it’s just too much
ayy, every time you see me, i got some new ice and like two cups
ayy, not from milwaukee or from tampa, bae, these blue bucks
[verse 2: key glock]
yeah (blue bucks)
baby, i get too much
motherf*ckin’ money, so i gotta keep that tool tucked
i’m still the same youngin’, the only thing, my money grew up
it be the same n*ggas talkin’ ’bout slidin’ and ain’t shootin’ nothin’
yeah, b*tch, i’m all about my bread, every crouton
yeah, i just cut a check and b*tch off like a coupon
yeah, dead guys in my past, that sh*t two*hundred
um, young n*gga keep the heat up on ’em, jimmy bun
[chorus: key glock]
ayy, it’s glizock and guwop, we so icy, n*gga, you not (yeah)
pistol in the party, these young n*ggas with me too hot (yeah)
i ran it up, no bank account, i stuffed it in the shoebox
ninth grade with them things, i felt like a trap god (yeah)
long live my n*gga flippa, b*tch (b*tch), you see these blue rocks (yep)
ayy, i can’t put no money in my denim, it’s just too much
ayy, every time you see me, i got some new ice and like two cups
ayy, not from milwaukee or from tampa, bae, these blue bucks
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