Gucci Mane

Textin, smokin' and flexin' at the same time
Pick ya weapon, nigga
AR-15, Mac-11, nigga

I if you a Blood got beef with Guwop I don't wanna B ya
If you a Crip got problems with me I wouldn't wanna C ya
LC's all over me, no Vice Lord tho I Louis V up
Big up to Jeezy but the 12 disciples they betrayed Jesus
RIP to MLK he was a born leader
Malcolm X man dat there, them my damn people
Its a revolution second graders smokin' reefer
And killin' people, god deliver me from evil
My momma told me in the county jail in visitation
That shes not sad I took her ? shes happy that I made it
I buried the trash they threw at me and know its my buried treasure
And every hurdle in life I leap, it make me more successful

Life so stressful, niggas they gone test ya
So Icey and you can't make a diamond without pressure
Just to wake up and breath, man I'm blessedful
I used to pay my momma rent with the extras
Dope man, bitch want a bag I got extras
Don't measure lean pour up and don't measure
Dope man burry a mill, its buried treasure
Extra extra read about it, bitch I'm in the paper

Finessed the college out a loan, dropped out the first semester
fuente: musica.com

Gucci Mane

Ficha de la Canción



Letra añadida por:

Valora la calidad de la letra

Compartir Letra

compartir en facebook
compartir en google plus
compartir en twitter

Enviar la letra '3 Extra' por email

Imprimir la letra '3 Extra' de Gucci Mane

ir a arriba