you don’t love me - gucci mane & sexyy red lyrics
[intro: gucci mane]
(go grizz)
(b100) huh?
[verse 1: gucci mane]
in my benz, behind tint
with my fake lil’ small lil’ b*tch
got a project b*tch that used to ride marta
my fake lil’ hard lil’ b*tch (huh?)
i’m the sh*t, you know i’m the sh*t
i’m still a walkin’ l!ck (walkin’)
and i be smarter than robin, i’m a truck
then try to go against this sh*t (true)
got this b*tch from texas, swear she flexin’
she can’t even take no d*ck
got some country over in tennessee
my thick lil’ white lil’ sh*t (lil’ white, yeah)
and since ’06 i been runnin’ this sh*t
n*gga, i invented this sh*t
if my b*tch come ask for money
no worries, i got plenty this sh*t (brr)
[pre*chorus: gucci mane]
i met this girlie s*xyy, i let her in my coupe (huh?)
i know she not no groupie, she said she from the loop (go)
she flexed on me with bands, but look, i get money too
act like you in the band then come blow me like a flute
[chorus: gucci mane & s*xyy red]
i think i love her
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
i think i love her (huh?)
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
i know i love her (uh)
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
i know i love her (wow)
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
i think i love her (it’s s*xyy)
[verse 2: s*xyy red & gucci mane]
well, my name is nae nae, but these n*ggas call me s*xyy (mwah)
finesse a n*gga out his real money if he let me (brr*brr)
i turn these n*ggas out, they let me trap out they house (uh, uh, uh)
i got some hoes from the 6 and whatever they say they ’bout (on blood)
fine*ass b*tch from st. louis look like some candy (what, what, what?)
d*gg*n’ n*ggas out, i know i get that from my daddy (hah)
he think that we in love ’cause i let him meet my family (uh, uh)
told him, “if you love me, n*gga, chunk it up, all y’all great” (i’m s*xyy, i think i love her)
i met this n*gga named gucci, i like him, he get money (brr*brr)
i know he got them hoes (huh, uh), so i don’t trust him for nothin’ (h*ll nah)
me and him be thuggin’ (huh?), matchin’ cars, we be stunnin’ (yoom)
but he’s only good for givin’ me money and some f*ckin’ (yeah)
[chorus: gucci mane & s*xyy red]
i think i love her (huh?)
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me (what the f*ck?)
i think i love her (wow)
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
i know i love her (the h*ll?)
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
i know i love her
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
n*gga, you don’t f*ck with me
i think i love her
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