Upcoming Concerts for Gucci Mane
Top Songs By Gucci Mane
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Gucci Mane
Vocals
Metro Boomin
Programming
Southside
Programming
Quavo
Vocals
Takeoff
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Joshua Luellen
Songwriter
Kirsnick Khari Ball
Songwriter
Leland Wayne
Songwriter
Quavious Marshall
Songwriter
Radric Delantic Davis
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Alex Tumay
Mixing Engineer
Metro Boomin
Producer
Southside
Producer
Eddie Hernandez
Recording Engineer
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Intro]
Ha
It's Gucci, it's Drop Top
Wizop, whoo
Yeah (Go)
[Chorus]
Aye, you get the bag and fumble it (Go)
I get the bag and flip it and tumble it (Yeah)
Straight out the lot, three hundred cash (Cash)
And the car came with a blunt in it (Yeah)
Lil' mama a thot, and she got ass (Thot)
And she gon' fuck up a bag (Yeah)
Pull up to the spot, livin' too fast (Yeah)
Droppin' the dope in the stash
In Italy, got two foreign hoes, they DM me (Ooh, brr, aye)
Drop the top when it's cold, but you feel the heat (Drop-top, skrrt, yeah, aye)
Be real with me, keep it one hundred (Whoa)
Just be real with me (Aye)
Eat it up like it's a feast (Eat it up)
They say the dope on fleek (Yup)
[Verse 1]
Percocet pill on me (Percocet)
Ice on my neck, baby, chill with me (Ice!)
Them **** that post in the back don't say nothin'
Them ****'ll kill for me (Shh)
Backends I count in my sleep, on fleek
Hunnid K spent on that Patek Philippe (Philippe)
Bitch, I'm a dog, eat my treat (Rrr)
Hop out the frog and leap (Leap)
I put them bricks in the fender
My bitch, she walk around like she Kris Jenner (Kris Jenner)
I used to break in and enter
Then take off runnin' like the game of Temple (Whew)
It's simple, I play with her mental
Mama say she saw me on Jimmy Kimmel (Mama!)
Count it up 'cause I'm a money symbol
Walkin' with these racks, I'm lookin' crippled (Money!)
[Verse 2]
Fuck on that bitch, then I tip her (Tip her)
A nickel for me to take pictures (Nickel)
Not from L.A., but I Clipper (Brr)
Double my cup, pour a triple (Actavis)
Fox on my body, no Vivica (Fox on my)
I'm not your average or typical (I'm not your)
Look at my wrist, and it's critical (Look at the)
Hold it up, droppin' the temperature (Droppin' the)
I get that bag on the regular (Bag)
I got a bag on my cellular (Brr)
Baggin' up, baggin' up vegetables (Bag)
Bag of them cookies, it's medical (Cookie!)
Cocaine, codeine, etcetera (White)
Cocaine and lean, it's federal (White)
I take off, landing on nebula
As of now, twenty M's on my schedule (Takeoff)
[Chorus]
You get the bag and fumble it
I get the bag and flip it and tumble it (Yeah)
Straight out the lot, three hundred cash (Cash)
And the car came with a blunt in it (Yeah)
Lil' mama a thot and she got ass (Thot)
And she gon' fuck up a bag (Yeah)
Pull up to the spot, livin' too fast
Droppin' the dope in the stash
In Italy, got two foreign hoes, they DM me (Ooh, brr, aye)
Drop the top when it's cold, but you feel the heat (Drop-top, skrrt, yeah, aye)
Be real with me, keep it one hundred (Whoa)
Just be real with me (It's Gucci, aye)
Eat it up like it's a feast (Eat it up)
They say the dope on fleek (Yup)
[Verse 3]
I know that these **** gettin' sick of me
These chains on my neck cost a mil' a piece
I don't even like to freestyle for free
I put in the key and I ride the beat
I don't even come out the house for free
I pay a **** to drive for me (Huh?)
Jay-Z couldn't even co-sign for me
I do what I want 'cause I'm signed to me (Damn)
I get the, I get the, I get the bag
They get the bag, have to cut it in half (Wop)
Stop the comparing, y'all makin' me laugh
Leave the rehab, I'm addicted to cash
Convertible Wop, convertible top
My dope got a vertical, look at that hop
Skrrt-skrrt-skrrt, and it jump out the pot (Pot)
Came out the jail and went straight to the top
[Verse 4]
Take it easy, baby
Middle of summer, I'm freezin', baby (Brr)
Don't leave me, baby
Just drop to your knees and please me, baby (Go)
I'm fascinated
Two bitches so fine that I masturbated
Congratulation
She brain me so good, that I graduated (Wow)
They had to hate it
I don't fuck with them ****, they plastic, baby
A trapper, baby
I rap, but I own all my masters, baby
It's tragic, baby
I pull up and fuck up the traffic, baby
A savage, baby
I'm killin' these ****, closed casket, baby (Wop)
[Chorus]
You get the bag and fumble it
I get the bag and flip it and tumble it (Yeah)
Straight out the lot, three hundred cash (Cash)
And the car came with a blunt in it (Yeah)
Lil' mama a thot and she got ass (Thot)
And she gon' fuck up a bag (Yeah)
Pull up to the spot, livin' too fast
Droppin' the dope in the stash (Yeah)
In Italy, got two foreign hoes, they DM me (Ooh, brr, aye)
Drop the top when it's cold, but you feel the heat (Drop-top, skrrt, yeah, aye)
Be real with me, keep it one hundred (Whoa)
Just be real with me (Aye)
Eat it up like it's a feast (Eat it up)
They say the dope on fleek (Yup)
Written by: Joshua Luellen, Kirsnick Khari Ball, Leland Wayne, Quavious Marshall, Radric Delantic Davis