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Yeah Money Makin' Records man T know Laflare Entertainment True what's happening? Yeah, I call'em true cause they know they the truth dawg That boy Gucci Yeah, we make them hoes say
[Chorus: .45] Yo trap don't boom like mine Yo paper ain't longer than mine, than mine Aw man [8X] Yo bitch ain't finna than mine, than mine Yo rims ain't talla than mine, than mine Aw man [8X]
[Verse 1] You never seen a thug like this aw man I'm choppin down them bricks tryin to wipe Jackie Chan My money come fast, my work come in grams My soldiers keep straps like they work for Uncle Sam My chain like ugh, my wrist like damn! I show up at the jewler with a hundred thousand cash Drop top Porsche, inside DAMN Outside red lookin like a Coke can I keep a pretty brown round and young yellow I gotta butta pecan Rican and a French vanilla My trap boom hard, my bitch real fine Poppi on the way, we call it crunch time
[Chorus]
[Gucci Mane] I'ma lean with it, serve a fiend with it On the block since the age of thirteen with it In the kitchen water whippin, a thousand eight grams I'm standin over the stove and I'm doin it with one hand Aw man, fruit man, Toucan sam, two hundred and seven gram Got yam, a long Lamb', I'm sellin that grown man Aw man, I'm on that Kush tonight And I ain't stoppin chopper hit'chu and your body start rockin My chain got pneumonia, watch got the bird flu Came to the club smellin like a pound of purple Big Cat ruckus, nigga it's a movement This aint hip-hop, this is drug dealer music
[Chorus]
[.45] I trap hard nigga, stunt hard nigga E'ry bitch in the club jock a young nigga Fo'-five, Big Cat representa nigga Them twenty-eights sittin high, I'm a giant nigga Blowin kush muh'fucker, can you smell me nigga? Ridin through the city flyin with the top back Quarter ki' of the yam in the knapsack Big Tank throwin pills to the quarterbacks Me and Mailman (geah!) at'cha bitch house Baby momma cookin work at the trap house She servin coke like she work at the Waffle House Fo'-five count stacks at the stash house