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lunch freestyle - gucci mane lyrics

[verse 1:]
riching you trying to maintain
hundred benz and balmains
i got a new rollie it’s plain
you cooking
i’m f-cking your man
they say that i talk about change
b-tch you stop flexing with ranges
her rory ain’t driving no range
i bet you sh-t ain’t gonna change

[verse 2:]
rich kid and go up
ground round i got four glock
kevin working the safe spot
i’ve been gone cause the block hot
trappin, ain’t whippin no word
your riches ain’t bought me a verse
yow b-tch i might lift up your skirt
i’m f-cking her making her squirt
who trippin my phone ringing
she got the dough
i’m dropping her home
i’m f-cking that b-tch
i won’t pick up the phone (no)
i got the word to fix you
i never grow up as a freestyler
i never grow up as a freestyler
i guess the rest is just history

[verse 3:]
it’s more than one way to skin a cat
my crew say it’s a new day
my top missing like a toupee
i’m a superstar like lupe
i’m war down while sushi
be gucci, my movie
my diamonds coated
and a smoothie
imma spin five like a ozzy
dont pity me
they sick of me
these p-ssy n-gg- tricking me
if getting money is a crime
then i’m guilty cause i’m filthy
i’m balling like i’m an athlete
no jump shots
no track meets
my money longer than shaqs feet
gucci mane the o trap king
get hats down
i’m socker king
i fly down, a private plane
dope price keep going up and down
like the stock exchange
pound of this and a pound of that
and a brick a this and a little a that
i show a lame how to make a change
they ain’t never change
there’s project change

[verse 4:]
imma wait like fat people jogging
but a house on the hill
when i look you
imma wonder why i never see no black people walking
west side daddy
big yellow braces
spinning with a weight
news spin on his face lift
hit me a liquor
spit out the fakers
took all my crews on vacation
money, money that’s all i think about
bsm that’s all i’m screaming out
ten seventeen, ain’t nothing else to think about
mack 11 in my car
make a n-gg- pull it out
big ole pimps off
big ole ring on
big magazines at the coronarita
just layed back
me and my amigos
give me twelve for a four pound a weed though
how your mamma cry like dope boy mother
lay on your couch
flee like dope boy n-gg-
i’m so l a
left the lawyer for you
yall go f-ck around
and make me gotta pay my lawyer
long trench coat
looking like big tracy
30 inch long horn chevy tracy
so l a gotta keep my stacy
you f-cking with a big dog
you might catch rabies

- gucci mane lyrics

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