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lirik lagu woppenheimer – gucci mane

[verse 1]
pull up, haters mumblin’, they had a bag and fumbled it (they fumbled it)
i ran my money up, then put it up and kept on runnin’ it (go)
last of a dyin’ breed, it ain’t no “i” in “team”
but it is an “i” in “win,” so pass the ball to me (wop)
i don’t do much reminiscin’, i’m focused on the mission
good and some bad memories, but we weren’t really friendly (nah)
n*ggas out here faking injuries, you can’t rely on them
i’m gucci mane, i’m playin’ hurt, but i got my eye on them (it’s gucci)
these rappers nowadays, gotta search ’em, might have a wire on ’em
one n*gga tried to send the spot, i dropped the bag on him (what the f*ck?)
one n*gga died tryna hit a l!ck, died with his mask on him
his gang wasn’t even there to help, died with his flag on him (it’s gucci)

[chorus]
broke people like bringin’ up the past, i’m talkin’ recently (what the f*ck?)
i know what i did for you, but what you did for me? (what you did for me?)
shoutout to my wife, she had a daughter and a son for me (my son)
shoutout to my brother, down bad, he made that bond for me (he made that bond)
taught me never, ever leave the house without my gun with me (no)
i remember bein’ broke and kids tried to make fun of me (to make fun of me)
now i pull up, yellow*black coupe, it look like a bumblebee (skrrt)
i thank god for that lil’ bitty time because it humbled me (lord)
[verse 2]
he was hot in early 2000, but what ’bout recently? (what ’bout now?)
long as i’m rich, i’m gon’ be relevant, live decently (i’m gon’ be rich)
this gucci hate train go, “choo*choo,” and it don’t bother me (choo*choo)
i don’t want sh*t from you suckers, not even an apology (not even)
haters keep my name in they mouth, but won’t acknowledge me (what the f*ck?)
these rappers burnt out and they broke now, i see it, honestly (i see it)
my n*gga went and did a whole dub, he got out recently (he got out)
but he linked up with a whole gang of scrubs who won’t compete with me (d*mn)
these n*ggas do ho sh*t for attention, they don’t got beef with me
please keep my name out all of your mentions ’cause that ain’t street to me (’cause that ain’t—)
these b*tches gon’ talk ’bout me forever, i’m somethin’ like ecstasy (i’m somethin’ like x)
but i’ma chase the paper, not p*ssy, ’cause that’s my specialty (it’s gucci)

- gucci mane

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