I'm so motherf**in' turned up right now
Someone please turn Gucci Mane down
Brick Squad thugged out, we don't give a f**
We hit the club, shoot the club, tear the club up
So you should hit the floor. Get low and shut up
Hit the floor, get low and shut the f** up
You's a b**h, you's a snitch, you a motherf**in' scrub
[Verse 1 - Gucci Mane]
I pulled up in a 4-door Porsche, set-trippin'
3 young dreadhead n***as riding with me
I don't think they like me and I don't like em neither
But if they move wrong, I'll red up their white beater
I do it for the hood, I do it like no equal
I do it for the red, black, yellow, white people
I just bought a K, just the other day
And I don't play with grown men: I don't like to play
I'm so motherf**in' turned up right now
n***as hang on me, I don't give a f** right now
Well you n***as keep on trying like the little engine that could
You think you can, you think you could, I think you pussies should
[Hook]
[Verse 2 - Gucci Mane]
Call me Gucci Flocka Flame, I dun changed my name
Call me Frenchie Mane La Flare, Gucc' the Kid..it's all the same
I be running, gunning, stunting with 100 k**ers riding
You snitching, b**hing, tattle-telling, scared to stand beside me
I just bought another house just to house my goons
So Icey Entertainment, boy, we just like a platoon
The colors in my chain remind me of a cartoon
I'll murk your boy in March, they didn't find that boy til June
I wish they found him August so that's like "too much too soon"
His face was swoll and puffy, bout the color of a prune
Brick Squad Movement and, no, you're not apart of it
Me, Waka and Wu, Juice and Frenchie Mane started it
[Hook]
[Verse 3 - Wu the Kid]
Iced out bar got me ballin' like the Lakers
Homicide around the corner. Where you, in Jamaica?
My volume on max, you boys better run
I'm a n***a With an Attitude holding on the gun
17 n***as, I left 16 hit
Last n***a hit the corner, got his whole head split
Told you you're a goner, I'mma leave you dead quick
I'm like Wu the Kid, thugged out, we don't give a f**
Let your soul meet the sole of the bottom of my Chucks
Black car, black tint with the baby tags
Stay low to the floor, my midget out the bag