look ma i did it - gucci mane & baby racks lyrics
[intro: baby racks & gucci mane]
hold on, hold on, alright
1017
baby racks, baby racks
baby racks
racks
long money wop
i’m loaded, baby racks
loaded
()
go
i heard you broke, yeah, you trippin’
they said i couldn’t do it, but look, ma, i did it
it’s gucci
they said i couldn’t do it, but look, ma, i did it
they said i couldn’t do it, but look, ma, i did it (yeah)
go
[chorus: baby racks]
i heard you broke, yeah, you trippin’
i made twenty thousand just sittin’ in the kitchen (yeah)
they said i couldn’t do it, but look, ma, i did it (mama)
my reefer be louder than three*fifty engines (skrrt)
these n*ggas had counted me out (nah)
now they mention my name when they tryna gain clout (ha)
i don’t know what that’s ’bout
i keep them bands in a drought (bands)
they comin’ in, comin’ out (yeah)
[verse 1: baby racks]
b*tch, i look like i’m a dollar sign
you don’t see that, then you colorblind
i get the monеy ahead of time
thesе n*ggas green like a dandelion
play with my money, get penalized
these n*ggas poppin’ on facebook live
we used to go in on three*fives
i can go sn*tch my own p now
your b*tch get sn*tched like a rebound
don’t got no time for no handouts
i’m the one you shouldn’t play ’round
i been a boss, this ain’t overnight
high as a delta flight
hundreds be older than betty white
diamonds be shinin’ like city lights
playin’ with sticks like it’s fisher*price
this sh*t get scary like poltergeist
baby racks, yeah, that’s my copyright
pockets be fat, but my skinnies tight
say he want smoke, then it’s on sight
we just gon’ pop up with no invite
yeah, boy, you real funny like peter
got stripes like adidas
these n*ggas be singin’ like keisha
i need me a b*tch just like gina
i’m selfish as f*ck, i keep buyin’ two*seaters
i’ma just f*ck on her, you can still keep her
i’m sellin’ dope like it’s legal
might just go get a white beamer
havin’ more spots than a cheetah
drop a deuce, that’s that regeta (yeah)
[chorus: baby racks & gucci mane]
i heard you broke, yeah, you trippin’
i made twenty thousand just sittin’ in the kitchen
they said i couldn’t do it, but look, ma, i did it
my reefer be louder than three*fifty engines (skrrt)
these n*ggas had counted me out
now they mention my name when they tryna gain clout (yeah)
i don’t know what that’s ’bout (nah)
i keep them bands in a drought
they comin’ in, comin’ out (huh?)
[verse 2: gucci mane]
i’m so rich, can’t call me trick if i pay her
i used to trap out a room in decatur (skrrt)
all in las vegas, wave hi to the haters (hi)
my outfits is tailored, big tippin’ the waiter (wow)
i’m comin’ trim like it come with the trimmin’
all on the yacht with no shoes, rockin’ linen (yeah)
industry n*ggas be actin’ like b*tches
too feminine, i’d rather collab with women
when i got on, i put folks in position
i had a vision, started in the kitchen
my hustle relentless, the purest intentions
woke up in sim’ valley with no picket fences (d*mn)
i cannot stop ’til i run up a billion
i’m tryna stack these m’s up to the ceilin’ (d*mn)
i’m at the top, but i come from the trenches
bet mama look down, be like, “gucci, you did it” (mama)
[chorus: baby racks]
i heard you broke, yeah, you trippin’
i made twenty thousand just sittin’ in the kitchen
they said i couldn’t do it, but look, ma, i did it
my reefer be louder than three*fifty engines (skrrt)
these n*ggas had counted me out
now they mention my name when they tryna gain clout
i don’t know what that’s ’bout (nah)
i keep them bands in a drought
they comin’ in, comin’ out (bands)
[verse 3: baby racks]
my last b*tch showed me that these hoes wasn’t nothin’
so i’ma just marry the money
me and ben franklin got something in common
i might propose with a bag full of hundreds
say he got p’s, well, i need me a dozen
i might just go put ’em all in the oven
watch how them racks come back, lookin’ so lovely
money the only topic in discussions
you know all my b*tches exquisite
i’m tryna go get it
might just take your b*tch to spondivits
my pockets be looking like spinach
all of my cars, they be tinted
so you cannot see who in it
they tryna f*ck up my image
b*tch, i’m pablo in the city
i might just come with a fifty
i cannot stop ’til i push up in bentleys, bentleys, bentleys
[chorus: baby racks]
i heard you broke, yeah, you trippin’
i made twenty thousand just sittin’ in the kitchen (yeah)
they said i couldn’t do it, but look, ma, i did it (mama)
my reefer be louder than three*fifty engines (skrrt)
these n*ggas had counted me out (nah)
now they mention my name when they tryna gain clout (ha)
i don’t know what that’s ’bout
i keep them bands in a drought (bands)
they comin’ in, comin’ out (yeah)
[outro]
(b*tch)
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