Lyrical Dew : English Song Lyrics World: Gucci Mane

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Saturday, February 11, 2012

Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - Stoned Lyrics

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Song Title: Stoned
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - Stoned

[Intro]
Ha! This dem Ferrari Boyz - catch up!
BURR! Catch up! Catch up!

[Gucci Mane]
She stoned, she stoned, she gone off that Patron
I gave that bitch a hundred dollars just to leave me 'lone
Tell the waitress bring mo' bottles up cause she can keep the chaser
Lil' momma switchin by my section she want me to chase her (NOPE)
Wasted on moscato, but I'm losin my patience
I'm tellin her come go with me but all her homegirls hatin (FUCK 'EM)
Like Fred Flintstone, I'm a rolling stone (STONE)
My best friend is Barney so you know I'm rollin strong (STRONG)
Shawty in the zone, dress with the thong
Every nigga in the club tryin to take her home (GUCCI)
Shawty in the zone, dress with the thong
And every player in the club tryin to take her home (Gucci)

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]
Ay let's get stoned (stoned) I'm so stoned
Like Fred Flintstone, I got a partner named Barney
and he keep me in the zone, the whole club stoned
The whole world stoned, and tonight we 'bout to party
like we just came home; ay let's get stoned (stoned)
Like Fred Flintstone, I got a partner named Barney
and he keep me in the zone, the whole club stoned
The whole world stoned, tonight we 'bout to party like we just came home

[Waka Flocka Flame]
Put your blunts in air, hookahs in the air
Put your lighter in the air if you tryin to get stoned
Tonight I'm puttin on, I swear to God I'll survive
Bitch I am that high! Yes I am stoned
Drinkin on Obama, it's rainin white liquor
Gucci pass the dutches, I don't do no Swishers
Rock yellow stones, rock red stones
Bitch my money long, poppin pills and blowin strong
I'm a 'Stone Cold' flexer, Steve Austin (stunner)
Every concert man I'm gone (flex) stoned
In my zone hater leave me alone, be gone
Bird chains in the air - screamin as I yell....

[Chorus]

[Waka Flocka Flame]
When you hear this song
The crowd gon' be jumpin up and down
Screamin I'm stoned! (I'm stoned!)
White Remy Martin can't drink Patron
Lost my keys I can't even make it home!

[Gucci Mane]
E'rybody in here gone, all my homeboys stoned
My dogs just came home, ball like the Georgia Dome
Thinkin - it's back on, drinkin - that there Patron
It's over, I'm loaded, we toasted, we grown !

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Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Wooh Da Kid - Suicide Homicide Lyrics

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Song Title: Suicide Homicide
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Wooh Da Kid
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Wooh Da Kid - Suicide Homicide

[Waka Flocka Flame]
You decide, tuck in yo' pride
I ain't waitin, I ain't got no patience
Raised by the Grove, I ain't got an education
24/7 shorty, fuck a vacation
Wak's a real nigga, why you goin to the station?
Damn D-Mars why these fuck niggaz hatin?
Can't replace, why God had to fake 'em?
Free my nigga Moe, 25 he facin
Lafayette, Grove Street, that's my nation
Hoes on point, never losin concentration
New black 'rarri got a nigga tryin race it
Fresh 'fro, gives a simple wave to the Haitians
Silver rotation got a nigga on point
Haste with the case, when the shit gon' stop?
Run up on me click click click pop
(Pop pop pop pop) Pop, many body drop
I'm the Brick Squad crop, the crowd real Waka Flock'
Man you rag, dude you go hard (what else?)
I am Brick Squad, crowd yell out SQUAD (and)
I'm livin it, hell I'm only scared of God

[Chorus]
S-suicide paint (den) suicide rims (kill 'em)
Suicide loud, I got them suicide friends (stankin)
Suicide bitches they'll kill for a nigga (ugh)
Call it suicide, run up on me fuck nigga (pussy)
Homicide purp (den) homicide vert' (kill 'em)
Homicide yo' ass and put yo' ass on a shirt (stankin)
Homicide ice, homicide life (ugh)
Homicide yo' kids and yo' motherfuckin wife (GUCCI!)

[Gucci Mane]
I'ma rich man sparkin, a rich man coughin
Dead man walkin, dead man talkin
I'm the man with the grams, get your bags, get your weight
Call me baker man, cuse I can bake a cake (it's Gucci)
Drop top 'rarri, called the headless horseman.
Cooking up babies, call the shit abortions
Roamin through the 6 like a motherfukin orphan.....
Like Vick I killed your road dawg and put him in a coffin
When it's on again, grab a tote again, no pad or pen, I gotta win
BSM and 1017, my whole Squad be goin in
Suicide is a homicide, I smoke so much my brain is fried
(Ferrari Boyz) and Ferrari toys, pullin up lookin like the Gotti boys !

[Chorus]

[Wooh Da Kid]
Doors go up, we just call it suicide
I ain't playin, I'm just prayin it's a homicide
It's 1017 that means it's time for BSM
Bread to win, that's on Pop, Joe the Boss, and Bim
Test what? Test that, test this...
Your bet your real lab rat I'll let her test dick
Running with the (Cannon), I ain't talkin (Nick)
I put 7 on your chest like M dot Vick
Murder, nigga, murder, nigga
Real short fuse, I hurt a, nigga
Wood Da Kid, Wooh Da, King
I'm married to my strap and I don't need a ring !

Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - So Many Things Lyrics

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Song Title: So Many Things
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - So Many Things

[Verse 1 - Waka Flocka Flame]
She don't want liquor, she just want wine
She just my kind: long hair, fat behind
They say we're intertwined, we belong together
In the club throwing money up, changing weather
G's on my sweater, all I get is cheddar
Money go-getters: Waka Flocka and 2 Timez
Gucci - sup, I said to the Haitians
Waddup Luchi. Free my nigga Zoe
40K for a show. Practice what I preach
Shawty Mane that's all I know
Triple cup styrofoam's got me walking slow
I'm smoking on reefer, me Gucci and Wiz Khalifa !

[Hook - Gucci Mane]
Smoking on reefer, make a bitch out
And leave her. Comment trough a speaker
Grind in my 2-seater
Cause I got a fleet-a
Send em work like it ain't a leak-a
I practice what I preach-a
If you ain't got a game, I could teach ya !

[Verse 2 - Gucci Mane]
I got a murder charge now for the tracks I murdered
Like a nigga turned around, I'm going back to work
Got a smirk on my face cause I smoke the purp
Gucci boy, now they doing a search
And I ain't been lame, but tame your dame
Cause you should be ashamed how she's off the chain
I'm insane in the brain like Saddam Hussain
I got a brink of extra change of this extra 'caine
It's crazy, Dwayne just counting strange
Me and Waka Flocka Flame on a private plane
With 2 bad ass bitches, bout to run a train
Like an organ donor, baby loan the brain

[Hook - Gucci Mane]
Smoking on reefer, make a bitch out
And leave her....speaker
Grind in my 2-seater
Cause I got a fleet-a
Send em work like it ain't a leak-a
I practice what I preach-a
If you ain't got a game, I could teach ya !

Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Titi Boy aka 2 Chains - Mud Musik Lyrics

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Song Title: Mud Musik
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Titi Boy aka 2 Chains
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Titi Boy aka 2 Chains - Mud Musik

[Intro]
Ughh, Flocka! Gucci! 'Rarri, Boyz!
Ay Tity Boi what's happenin mane?
We turnt up mane, shout to the whole city mane
Uhh, uhh, uhh (Brick Squad monopoly)

[Waka Flocka Flame]
Half a pint in my two liter, I just slow sip
This that mud drank, my 'rarri go hard in the paint
Pulled up dancin right, hopped out flexin ice
Niggaz'll give they life, just to live my life
Bitches yellin loud, walkin through the crowd
With a triple cup (po' po' po' me up)
'burry game clique, flags in the sky
Walkin through the God I swear to God I'm in the sky
Astronaut high, I'm that guy
Stacks on stacks, racks on racks
I keep mud on standby
Got some real niggaz that you cain't even stand by

[Chorus]
I just slow sip (po' po' po' me up)
Styrofoam cup (tri-tri-triple cup)
This that mud drank, fo' ounces and a one liter
This that mud drank, half a pint in my two liter
(Po' po' po' me up) styrofoam (tripled up)
(Po' po' po' me up) styrofoam (tripled up)
This that mud music, this that mud drank
Styrofroam cup (tri-tri-triple cup)

[Gucci Mane]
Styrofoam cup we po'n up, Gucci, Flock', blowin up
We so fuckin up, all our foes they be duckin us
I'm a jack boy, you a jackass
You must dress in the dark with yo' tacky ass!
I'm Big Gucci, cool guap'
Got 80 grand in my khaki pants
Tity's on the scene, yeah that's my team
BSM yeah that's my scene
I'm a millionaire, that's reality
You want a mill' that's a fuckin dream
I'm on mine, got two nines
Throw my watch in the air to let time fly
I'm DUI, I'm too high
You heard that young nigga I'm too fly
Thugged out young nigga I'm 'bout my bread
Don't want no pussy girl givin me head
We ain't even gotta stop to use the bed
Ay-ain't no need to fuck up the spread
I'm drinkin, I'm thinkin
All the real niggaz we linkin
My Brick Squad all be down on hangin
Sippin lean done got me famous, Gucci!

[Chorus]

[Tity Boi]
Yeah, mud, mud, Gucci!
This that kickstand, campaign
Over they head like an airplane
Brang yo' gurl to the club 'round me !
and my niggaz then she fail game
2 Chainz, I'm too much
Every time I fuck I get two nuts
Every time you see me I'm with two sluts
I ain't in or out 'less the Coogi cut
Promethazine, contraband
Told them folks we a country band !
Brick Squad, duffle bag
Bunch of knucklehead niggaz sayin "Fuck the feds"
My bread long like Subway, Louis' on, unlazered
And I ain't talkin money when I hit you with this one caper
I need two mo', two liters !
I got bass like two speakers !
It must be (Do or Die)
cause these niggaz out here "Po' Pimpin"
All we doin is slow sippin
I be on that codeine
I got fo' zips
'Bout to po' it on this ice cream, ughh!

Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Slim Dunkin - She Be Puttin' On Lyrics

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Song Title: She Be Puttin' On
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Slim Dunkin
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Slim Dunkin - She Be Puttin' On

She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She the type don’t never ever ask for nothing
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She the type don’t never ever ask for nothing
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She pay her own bills cause she got her own money
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She pay her own bills cause she got her own money
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She the type don’t never ever ask for nothing !

My girl independent
Bitches all in her business?
Pink on the back of her boyshorts
Bought everything she own
Love it when she smile and moan
Encore how she groan
Ask around the hood, she known
One of a type she can’t be cloned
“No hands” for her ringtone
“Hard in the paint” her theme song
That's my gutta chick
Man I love that bitch
The way she look and moan
When she taking it
And don’t mind McDonald’s
Ain’t no bougie bitch
When I wake up
Breakfast on the table,
One rolled up
Sprayed upon the table?
Baby ‘po up
Drinking out of the “a” cup
Pass the syrup
I’m finna fuck this food up

She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She the type don’t never ever ask for nothing
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She pay her own bills cause she got her own money
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She pay her own bills cause she got her own money
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She the type don’t never ever ask for nothing

Now she’s stuntin', she’s going in,
These hoes can't tell her nothing
She came home in a trench coat
And under it was nothing
I'm so curious, it's serious,
My car so fast and furious
But she'll drive a man delirious
I hope all y'all hearing this
She's got swag of a top model
Curves like a coke bottle
She know I go full throttle
I’m walking with a slight wobble
Got choppas like I’m Big Papa
I’m Big Gucci, you a cock blocker
These True Religion not the knock off
My camera chain is an eye problem
Imma stunt stunt a bill on a half a mil’
Ice crem Gucci Mane, can I live?
Chick knows I got a rubber dick
You know what gone in 60 secs is?
A movie, I’m being me
Just cooling and my DVD
And my BVDs are so I-C-E
Y to the G-U-C-C-I !

She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She the type don’t never ever ask for nothing
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She pay her own bills cause she got her own money
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She pay her own bills cause she got her own money
She got a car, a job, a swag, she stuntin'
She the type don’t never ever ask for nothing...!

Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - PacMan Lyrics

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Song Title: PacMan
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - PacMan

[Intro]
Yeahhhhhhh!!!
It's Gucci (Flocka) Flocka!!
(BRR) Ferrari Boyz in the building
Vrooom vroom vroom vroom vroom vroom
Catch up!!

[Chorus 2X: Gucci Mane]
Everybody know I got a sack man
I got the whole hood shoppin when the pack in
You never mix business, with new friends
All black Benz, you can call it Pac-Man

[Waka Flocka Flame]
25 to 10, 9 and the fo'-five on me (pop pop pop pop)
I don't need no co-D, do it by my lonely
(CB4) gangsters, man they so (Gusto)
24/7 all I do is hustle
Old folks in the hood call me demon.
Triple cup styrofoam, I sip lean man.
Straight slow slippin, man my finger itchy
I been rappin for three years man I need a mission
Young boys on that Grove Street man they trappin hard
Hit the club, 50 deep, fuck a bodyguard
They say Waka Flocka, always startin riots
Get money good, motherfuck a dyin!

[Chorus]

[Gucci Mane]
I'm the Pac-Man, but it's not Adam Jones
Bitch it's Gucci Mane, double cup my styrofoam
I'm on it like I want it, I make you think your house was on it.
I got blocks, plus everybody in here want it.
Me and Wak' Flock', come from the block, straight drop a whole block.
Chop it up then serve the block, call it hip-hop !
Pac-Man with bags of loud and bags of kush I'm bankin
I just got, 'bout 50 in, and I broke 'em down to onions
I'm servin, or splurgin, you snitchin, you workin
I drop off, on purpose, yo' cook-ups, are worthless
I'm searchin, who's lurkin, you jerkin, I'm turfin
I just got the pack in, so call me to purchase !

Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Rocko - In My Business Lyrics

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Song Title: In My Business
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Rocko
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. Rocko - In My Business

[Intro/Chorus]
Yeah I stay busy, stay out my business
Cause I ride Benzes, ay that's my business
See all my lenses, are dark blue tinted
Cause I don't LIKE people in my business
In my business, I run my business
If ain't 'bout business, then I'm not listenin
In my business, I run my business
If ain't 'bout business, then I'm not listenin

[Gucci Mane]
If it ain't 'bout paper, there ain't no convo
See I ride scrapers, and y'all ride Volvos
But that's my M.O., I go where you won't go
I smoke what you cain't smoke, I'm rich and you're flat broke
See I'm not a blogger, and I'm not a jogger
I'm more like a mobster, just call me a baller
A Chevy Impala, sittin on them 40 O's
I got a lot of things but I owe 'em to Sergio
Gucci's a hustler, and he got clientele
Always got somethin to sell, just pullin your coattail
You hate me then oh well, I checked out a hotel
But now I get fan mail, my game at a stansstill
I checked out a hotel, you hate me then oh well
But now I get fan mail, my game at a standstill
Go spin like a windmill, I lower than windshield
See I got a good deal, but know what the hood feel

[Chorus]

[Waka Flocka Flame]
All I know, I'm one real nigga (Flocka)
Grew up 'round robberies and drug dealers
Dutches no Swishers, I'm the new God Fisher
Can't be Nino Brown cause that fuck nigga snitchin
Catch me on the Grove, chillin where it count
It's not just metaphors, pussy nigga you don't trap
Why they in my business? My name rang bells all through prison...
They run up in my house cause they heard a nigga pitchin
Bitch that's my decision! Why you worryin 'bout me?
24 years old, I'm a fuckin O.G. !
Riveralde in this bitch, young and rich, macaroni bitch
Two-door 6 B watch me shift, touchdown ref get off my dick
Middle finger when I see the (folk) fuck police
I got your salary hangin off my neckpiece
And to every nigga don't like me may you rest in piece
When I die label me a motherfuckin beast !

[Chorus]

[Rocko]
Uhh uhh, they goin for 30, just sold 20
Got pajamas on, and I still feel like money
(This what I do!) Tied this down, my new hoes 20
The Beemer made me look 30, the Benz on 20's
Hell she talkin businee and lookin for it, you got any?
The L stash smash well hurry hurry bring plenty
(Bring it all) The full truck gank came we hungry in the streets
This dry town ain't rained for weeks
I'm still posted in the paint, try and stay on my pivot
I might travel in a minute, they better hurry and send it
(I'ma come get it) We independent, you talkin business nigga I'm listenin
A couple of commisary digits nigga to talk business !

Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - Ferrari Boyz Lyrics

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Song Title: Ferrari Boyz
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - Ferrari Boyz

[Gucci Mane]
I'm in the yellow thang, on the expressway
That bitch so nasty it might give a bitch road rage
Get out my lane - Ferrari Boyz
You see the chain - So Icey boys
I'm ridin in a mansion, but I don't think I'm fancy
But I cut the blinker on and my diamonds dancin
Once upon a time, a little while ago
There was a nigga in a 'rarri with a pretty yellow hoe
Got my head held up, cause I think I'm handsome
As the media portrayin me as Charles Manson
And I coulda bought a Phantom, road here four deeper
But I'd rather pull up solo in the yellow two-seater....
Gucci!

[Chorus 4X: Gucci Mane]
Get out my lane! Ferrari Boyz!
You see the chain - So Icey boys!

[Waka Flocka Flame]
Riding in the 'rarri same color as Bacardi
She don't like me shawty man she like my car
Damn near wanna fuck my chain, damn near wanna fuck my name
Wanna bust every nigga in the clique I claim
Deep-dish rims ain't no offsets mane
That's how me and Gucci Mane came
Iced out poppin shit, drunk switchin lanes
I rock bandanas like Santana, screamin out "Who want some anna?"
Made a million off my words, they in love with my country grammar
That's the antenna, cause these rap nigga careers got static in it
I'm a walkin meal ticket, just wait a minute
Bank account got commas in it, all black 'rarri know the llamas in it
I hear them talkin gangsta shit but I know they lame as hell
One thing I ain't gon' do, pussy nigga you scared of jail
My name ring bells, my engine loud as hell
Shit, my 'rarri cost about 230 bails !

Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - Break Her Lyrics

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Song Title: Break Her
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - Break Her

[Intro]
Brick Squad monopoly (ugh)
You know I'ma break her
Bitch come and choose up!
I just be on hard mayne
Me and old Gucci Mane

[Waka Flocka Flame]
Shhh, be quit, shhh, be quiet
She talkin like you wired, her ass think she hired
Take you to a place real private
Vick you down and let you suck my private
I have no feelings - I'm a cold hearted nigga
You might catch me wit'cha sister, autograph my picture
I won't never kiss her, pills weed and some liquor
He might fuck 'round the liquor, I'm gon' get her Visa
You know I'ma break her, I don't hear no cake bruh
Send her out get cake bruh, bitch be back by 8 uhh
Sunshine my money maker, TT that's my down bitch
CC got real loose from that, you would give shawty a stupid check

[Chorus]
You know I'ma break her
Bitch come and choose up!
I done stepped my game up
Got a house outta her
She done bought me rings bruh
Got a chain outta her
I just pimp hard mayne
Me and old Gucci Mane !

[Gucci Mane]
Break-a-Bitch College, sugar pimp knowledge
Skeet in her mouth and the bitch just swallowed
Give her guidelines and the slut just followed [2X]
I'm on mine, I gots to grind, my rhyme for a reason....
Yo sis is a streetwalker, workin procedures
Baby bought me this, baby bought me that
Gave me a brick and I turned it to crack
Make me wanna fuck her, gotta come back
Lil' short thang with a ass so fast
Menages, massages, she too wild, no flaugin
She choose up, I po' up, I'm two up, she bobbin
I'm a nuisance, no nonsense.
I'm a monster, no conscience.
No option, who want it? Haters get left, unconscious
Grind in the 'rarri every day like a Chevy
Smoke so heavy that the dub man smell me
Used to let a boy named Luke get to me
In the club drunk got to fightin already !

Gucci Mane, Waka Flocka Flame feat. Slim Dunkin - Too Loyal Lyrics

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Song Title: Too Loyal
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane Waka Flocka Flame feat. Slim Dunkin
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane, Waka Flocka Flame feat. Slim Dunkin - Too Loyal

[Intro: Gucci Mane]
Mr. Zone 6'er, rock two pistols (BOW) [2x]
Fucked three sisters, iced out crystals
Mi-Mr. Zone 6'er, Mi-Mr. Zoner 6'er

[Gucci Mane]
I'm too hood, I'm too turnt (turnt)
Ain't been an hour and a quarter pound burnt
Mr. Zone 6'er, rock two pistols (BOW)!
Fucked three sisters, iced out crystals
Tell you like you wanna know, iced out shorty
Got a glow, blue block party, and you better know (POW)!
Fuckin bitches every show, one for the cheese
Two for the ki's, three's for the P's, go for the O.G.'s
I'm so sleaze I hit your main squeeze (geah)!
Rollin on 30's, like you rollin on D's (wow)!
It beez Gucci Goo-Wop!
In the South top Beemer that's convertible top!

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]
I'm too fuckin loyal; you too fuckin spoiled
Bitch I'm gone off that hard, Brick Squad we barred
Them boys are high [3X]
We ballin out [3X] - I'm too fuckin loyal

[Waka Flocka Flame]
They said I'm steamin, I'm bubblin, from the fire up
You got loud better fire it up
Call me a one-hit wonder I'll switch my flow up
Drop "No Hands" with Roscoe Dash, now I've blowin up
I'm (ballin out) everywhere you see me is money on the ground
'Caine one bleaches me, in for a pound (flags)
Higher than a motherfucker I smoked 'bout a pound
I love to throw hundreds screamin stripper bitch drown!
Girls all around me run me down
I drink, go bomb, ... me round
Pants down, Brick Squad we the shit
Waka Flocka Flame the 2011 ...Mitch !

[Chorus]

[Slim Dunkin]
Brick Squad young'n
Catch me with a groupie chick, I be on my groupie shit
Hotel, motel, try and shoot a groupie flick
Bang bang, skeet skeet, Sturdy Pete, blew the crib
Dumped out the flag fuck, coolin with the stewardess
Hoe like OH MY GOD, look in my garage!
This ain't no facade, sleepwalkin on them bars
I got me on free, link get me the Z
Red Bull give me wings, pit be robbin ching
Money I'ma get to it, neckpiece, igloo it
Shoot a hundred bet a hundred crapped out and redo it
It ain't nuttin to a boss nigga, put down
I'm so fuckin loyal Gucci tellin me to sit down !

Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - Young Niggas Lyrics

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Song Title: Young Niggas
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane, Waka Flocka Flame
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane,Waka Flocka Flame - Young Niggas

[Chorus: Gucci]
My pants saggin low like a young nigga
I'm twistin up the drough like a young nigga
I am in the club thirty deep like a young nigga
I'm still in the streets like a young nigga
Like a young nigga this one is for the young niggas
Where ya from nigga this ones for the young niggas [repeat]

[Verse: Gucci]
Yeah most my niggas rob they ain't gotta job
I got a couple young niggas that'll take the charge
So I don't bring a bodyguard I bring my entourage
Stop the track pause... R.I.P. to Camoflouge
I am about to pull my yellow 'rarri out the car garage
I got some young niggas that'll hide your body parts

[Verse: Flocka]
Twistin fingers in the club I'm a young nigga
Got them old niggas sayin I love that young nigga
Your whole click buyin shots y'all some broke niggas
Pants saggin, flag hangin I'm a young nigga
In the car strapped up with them guns nigga
We shootin at the police just for fun nigga

[Chorus: Gucci]
Yeah most my niggas rob they ain't gotta job
I got a couple young niggas that'll take the charge
So I don't bring a bodyguard I bring my entourage
Stop the track pause... R.I.P. to Camoflouge
I am about to pull my yellow 'rarri out the car garage
I got some young niggas that'll hide your body parts!

[Verse: Flocka]
Ray Charles vision screamin wheres the competetion?
Lot of rappers on the corner man they swag missing
I'm on that young nigga shit, shiesty ass niggas at my shows run for bricks
Gucci said I'm going hard Flocka on this shit
Old school swag got these hoes on my dick
I'm allowed to pick I'm like which girl to get?
Pulled up on some onset yellow and black whip
I'm on my Wiz Khalifa shit, I don't do no papers
Fresh up on them papers, haters catch the vapours
Shoes alligator I'm talkin about Jordans
She ain't got enough swag shawtay can't afford em'!!!

[Chorus: Gucci]
My pants saggin low like a young nigga
I'm twistin up the drough like a young nigga
I am in the club thirty deep like a young nigga
I'm still in the streets like a young nigga
This one is for the young niggers
Where ya from nigga this ones for the young niggas!!!

Gucci Mane ,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. YG Hootie - 15th And The 1st Lyrics

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Song Title: 15th And The 1st
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane, Waka Flocka Flame, feat. YG Hootie
Album: Ferrari Boyz (2011)

Lyrics to Gucci Mane ,Waka Flocka Flame, feat. YG Hootie - 15th And The 1st

[Intro]
Uhh, uhh
Ayy Guc' Mane, we good right now man
Get money good man

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
It's a white girl in town - name is Cocaine
It's some dirty birds in town - Gucci Mane & Waka Flame
We fly in, on buy-in, say you got more birds? You lyin
You tryin and lyin, you boys ain't supplyin
I pitch like Nolan Ryan, got cocallina flyin
My partners stick up kids, duct tape rope they gon' tie in
In the bushes they lyed in all night that's my word
By the end of the mornin they left with them birds
And I'm gone off that purp', and I'm slurrin my words
I swerved in my Benz, bangin my 4G's on the curb
The lean, the herb, pay me like the first
You cross Brick Squad, get hurt
I got work - Gucci

[Chorus]
My homeboys will get you, pay you on the 33rd
Two pints of lean'll have me slurrin on my words
Undertaker car, triple black drop bird
Stomach full of money, so hundreds I'ma burp
All the hoods love us like the 15th and the 1st
Two pints of lean'll have me slurrin on my words
Undertaker car, triple black drop bird
Stomach full of money, so hundreds I'ma burp
All the hoods love us like the 15th and the 1st

[Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame]
Five grand for a head shot
Boy don't be no Flintstone and get yo' (Bedrocked), nigga!
Triple red drop, offsets through the parkin lot
Where I'm from, young niggaz shootin at the cops
Where I'm from, they fakin
My hood right side, nigga, green flaggin
Lay yo' ass down if you do too much braggin
Three case, four Glocks, nigga that's swaggin, ughh!!!
Penalized, then goes the Packer-Man
What'cha hell, you would think it was a cracker-man
I don't know 'em bah-bah-bah-bah-back'em man
Fuck 'em den! Throw my stash in the club that there'll do
Every girl gettin past you
Send an ambulance on that ass I want that rent due
Robbin every nigga that ain't Hit Squad, Blood or Piru
FLOCKA!!!!

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: YG Hootie]
Half a million dollar jewelry like "Fuck that bird!"
Niggaz screamin they want beef, I'm like (Roger That)!
My album didn't sell, so I'm layin niggaz down
Shootin every nigga, that burst leaves a fuckin frown
Forty carats on my bracelet, my Polo black
Niggaz talkin like they want beef, I'm wantin that
Seven grams in the Swisher, I'm gon' solo that
Ridin around with my strap like "Where they at?"
All these rap niggaz hold up, stole my Philly hat
You will never be a legend like the Gucci Mane
You will never be turnt up like my partner Flock'
You niggaz hoes I run your block when them choppers chop !

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Rick Ross feat. Gucci Mane - MC Hammer Lyrics

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Song Title: MC Hammer
Singer/Band: Rick Ross feat. Gucci Mane
Album: Teflon Don (2010)

Lyrics to Rick Ross feat. Gucci Mane - MC Hammer

Whoo (woo,woo,woo)
Whoo (woo,woo,woo)
MAYBACH MUSIC.. BOSS
MAYBACH MUSIC.. RICKY ROSS
MAYBACH MUSIC.. ITS TRIPPLE C's
MAYBACH MUSIC.. COLOR CUT CLARIY...

My gun dirty, my brick clean
Im ridding dirty, my dick clean
She talk dirty but her mouth clean
Bitch I'm MC hammer.. I'm about cream
I got 30 cars, hole lot of dancers
I take them everywhere.. I'm MC Hammer
Started selling dough, I'm too legit to quit
When its hammer time, I'm pulling out the stick

Im at the car lot, I'm going broke
I pay for 5, they find a couple more
I take them home, like I do my hoes
I dress them up, I buy them clothes
Glass slippers, I gas's hoes
Now she's acting brand new on you assholes
Limousines, I did that, two door coops boy I live that
My top back, I'm circumcised
I pull it back, just to go inside
She thinking folic, I'm thinking wings stop
Feening lemon pepper, I got my thing cocked
Black bat mobile, its only new Ferrari
Its called scaglietti one button like a Atari
Im just advising, my profit is rising
Niggas buying stocks any nigga like a verizon

My gun dirty, my brick clean
Im ridding dirty, my dick clean
She talk dirty but her mouth clean
Bitch I'm MC hammer.. I'm about cream
I got 30 cars, hole lot of dancers
I take them everywhere.. I'm MC Hammer
Started selling dough, I'm too legit to quit
When its hammer time, I'm pulling out the stick

I got the porche, I was so ecstatic
100 grand a day my operation is so elaborate
Credit card sqeems, that was for the faggots
Mother fuck window shopping boy I gotta have it
Now my shit be booming all across the atlas
Puchi puchi money long now we call him alex
Had to move from Davie cuz that shit was local.
Picked up the mansion and I sat that bitch back down in Boca.
My badest bitch is latin but they call me loco
Till I fuck them in the ass out in Acapulco..
Im thinkin money every moment thinkin money
I bust a nut then I'm back to thinkin money
My wrist froze my mind blow I'm off slow my eyes closed
You gotta judge a man by his principles
Teflon don, I am invincible.

My gun dirty, my brick clean
Im ridding dirty, my dick clean
She talk dirty but her mouth clean
Bitch I'm MC Hammer.. I'm about cream
I got 30 cars, hole lot of dancers
I take them everywhere.. I'm MC Hammer
Started selling dough, I'm too legit to quit
When its hammer time, I'm pulling out the stick.

Diamonds moving on my chest, wanna Hammer dance,
Seventy grand make my jeans sag like some Hammer pants,
Ambulance, ambulance, 911, 911,
It’s Gucci Mane, yea that’s my name, I’m going dumb, going dumb!
blowing up, blowin up, blowin up, blowin up,
I’m like MC Hammer, I put that on my grandma,
I ride through East Atlanta, in my new Ferrari,
It’s a 458, if you don’t have one, sorry,
I’ll let you borrow mine, I think I’m MC Hammer,
I never borrowed jewlery, I’m tippin naked dancers,
It’s an occasion, a celebration, at Central Station,
With Haitian hoes and Jamaicans, I’m trynna make it,
Old school, wanna race it? We can test it,
I’m flexin, I’ll leave a sucker eating dust for breakfast,
So expect the unexpected,
I’m well connected,
I’m MC Hammer 150 on the guest list,
Gucci!

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Gucci Mane Ft. 2 Chainz – Okay With Me Lyrics

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Song Title: Okay With Me
Singer/Band: Gucci Mane Ft. 2 Chainz

Lyrics to Gucci Mane Ft. 2 Chainz – Okay With Me

hook:
yep okay don’t play with me
bad bitches they stay with me
wanna pop bottles all night with me
all day with me okay with me
don’t don’t play with me
bad bitches they stay with me
wanna pop bottles all night with me
all day with me okay with me
yeah so … yeah so .. me
it’s okay with me, yeah it’ okay with me
don’t play with me
bad bitches they stay with me
wanna pop bottles all night with me
all day with me okay with me

wide boys dope boys wild players pull up in your opinions
back in back like is a real one
i pull the game is disgusting ..niggas discuss me
talking on loud like .. i got real life
i got bills a lot i got bricks .. to take a bill me
i got time to .. say by ..my own need in a ..
like a nigga in cash ..my own .. that bill shit
i like bad food i need .. i gotta told y’all
i got ….go faster
gucci mane i aint’ shine the champagne in my campaign
fly there too probably .. is this two shines in ....

[hook:]

yeah okay with me, yeah it’s okay with me
shawty got the crowds legs i got the ..bay with me
then i go the key with me, i wish they would try bitch
some niggas selling wood ticket and i won’t even bottle chicks
i go hard competin my bank roll ..
take a home completely then i squit her at the ..
doing with no compassion do it without her asking
yeah i’m from atlanta but my jury from alaska
i’m gonna be what i’m gonna be ..your arms upon me
concrete upon that ..the mirror how hard attack
boom bottom ..a nigga round real harder
playin back my .. livin like it’s no tomorrow...

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Wednesday, December 21, 2011

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