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lirik lagu gucci mane – jay fizzle

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[intro: jay fizzle & young dolph]
none of these n*ggas don’t like me
take that sh*t up with god though, n*gga
f*ck you talking about
na i’m talking ’bout? see you f*ck n*ggas, n*gga
we in the air my nig, we don’t talk about you b*tches at the round table n*gga, we wait ’till we get around the squarest table we can find to talk about you f*ck n*ggas
na i’m talking about? for real n*gga, still money counting, still overseas slanging n*gga, still outta sp*ce flavor
b*tch

[verse]
i’m in the trap, serving sh*t like a waiter
stack it up daily, stacking my paper
i know they hate a n*gga, but we ain’t the same, you n*ggas chasing b*tches
bankroll can’t fold, pockets on swole
got so much ice, f*ck around catch a cold or the flu, racks on me blue
stay lying to my b*tch, while shе always telling a n*gga i’m the truth
lil’ n*gga don’t like mе, so what? these racks in my pocket, i’m sewin’
last n*gga that played, got tore up, we caught him in traffic, that lil’ n*gga hold up
he had a gun, he ain’t pop it
i’m sh*tting on all these lame ass rappers, and can’t one nan’ these lil’ n*ggas stop me
they do not hesitate (they k!ll you)
swear, imma keep counting this paper as long as they print it
you don’t gotta listen to hear me, but when i get done, on my mama, these n*ggas gon’ feel me
rest in peace nipsey, i stay with a .60 by me
ice box, bought a chain, i ain’t care what it cost (ayy, f*ck that sh*t man, we having plenty of this sh*t, racks racks)
b*tch, i’m the realest, the illest
got 5, 6 tennis chains on my neck, feel like serina
stuck in the trap, ’till i run up a million (f*ck all that) nah, i want a billion, dollars
play and get popped like a bottle, 100k worth of ice, ’round my collar
turned up, can’t turn down, broke the volume
hit the b*tch from the back, with the speakers all the way up, cause the b*tch keep hollerin’ (too loud)
young n*gga too fresh, i be too stylin’
just copped the foreign off the lot, and i pay all cash, brand new, no miles
these clear diamonds when you see me smile
cost a lot of cheddar, so i can’t stop cheesing
got rocks in my ears, size of a donut
keep a whole hundred k in my bag for the f*ck of it
i know they don’t like me
i’m juiced up, like a hi*ci
my neck and wrist, so icy, i feel like gucci
just walked up out the trap house, hopped in the drop, i’m finna coupe it
my pockets stuffed with dog sh*t, i’ve been puffin’ pounds of stewie
say you don’t like me? (i don’t give no f*cks)
my pockets fat, hoe, cause they stuffed
i know they mad, i’m filthy rich (stay outta your feelings, hoe ass n*gga, yeah yeah)
ice on me hockey, yeah b*tch, i’m poppin’
just ask around, i’m the hottest (on god)
and b*tch, i’m the topic, n*gga can’t stop it, i’m on they ass like bad pockets
i’m on their ass like a sh*t stain, go and ask your hoe, i’m the sh*t mane
n*ggas be tough on the ig, see me in public, and won’t do sh*t mane
i ain’t the toughest, but i ain’t no hoe
lil’ n*gga play, put his ass on the floor
lil’ n*gga play, put a slug in his throat
pockets so fat, got me bow legged
catch an opp, code red, can’t take him out
gottem boy, i put the hood on the map
trap god, i put it down in the trap
flip me a pack, and put ice in my mouth

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