(Honorable C.N.O.T.E.)
Yeah, it’s Gucci (Wizzop)
Uh (Deuce)
1017, yeah (1017)
They said money make me arrogant, I said it make me show off
Back when my dough was low, man, it make me kick your door off
Not really a rapper, man, this shit just is a throw-off
Pistol-whipped him so bad that his ear damn near tore off
Bring my pot, yeah
Cook that shit in your house
Stash house in the suburbs
It ain’t even got no couch
I ain’t bring no condoms
‘Cause I’m only gon’ fuck your mouth
Gucci, man, I’m so South
Penthouse from the poorhouse (6)
Colder than an icehouse
Painkillers at my house
I got mega millions, still ain’t got more cash that my spouse
Yeah, my bitch a brick-house
Yeah, I ran a brick house
Arthur Blank, I run Atlanta, I might take a Vick out
She’s so thicc, I drop the racks, then I pull my dick out
Extendo with the dick out
And she like how it stick out
She ask ’bout the wifi and Gucci brought a brick out
Heard them niggas hatin’
So we go bring them sticks out
448 need to ball hard
You should be appalled how a young nigga throw down
Stick hit your top like Adolf
Gotta keep the wifi, hit ’em with the hotspot
Cook a 36 in a Crock-Pot
Sauer Sig make his shirt a tie-die
And I get the spinach, no Popeye
It’s your main bitch, naw, she a thot-thot
Red dot on your head, that’s a hot-spot
We gon start steppin’ till we fire-fire
Pull up on ’em with the stick and make ’em pop out
Made a hunnid thou’ cash when I dropped out
Dropped a ticket, made the NBA lockout
Seen him spillin’ ’bout our business, I’ll pop out
Fire fire leave ya like like caca
Gon’ bring it out the stove too, the fire hot
They said money make me arrogant, I said it make me show off
Back when my dough was low, man, it make me kick your door off
Not really a rapper, man, this shit just is a throw-off
Not really a rapper, man, this shit just is a throw-off
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