Drumma Boy - Nobody lyrics

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane] There's a trap in every hood and all the j's want that good dope Gucci got that clean cause all the snorters want that real coke Multimillionaire the real La Flare but I feel broke 10 Million dollar mane but I can't hang with these rich folks My little boy was only 2 he asked me, "papa, what a roo-poo?" 5 years old closet full of jays; fruit loops They say Gucci Mane the god of making music people trap to Drumma Boy the god of making music Gucci snap to Section 8 apartment and them babies need some fruit loops Pampers and a bath cause they mamma smoking crack too How you gone critique me, you industry I'm in the streets, you out the streets I murk the streets and murk the beat I'm Hercules, no murkin' me Gucci back home making music n***as clap to He don't never come to the hood unless he have to Rappin' a** n***as I'mma make my n***as rap you Its big Gucci, not Bobby V, so ain't no way you jackin' me [Hook:Gucci Mane] I ain't really scared of nobody Nobody Nobody Nobody Nobody Nobody I ain't backin' down for nobody Nobody Nobody Nobody Nobody Nobody You got teardrops on your face with no bodies [Verse 2: Gucci Mane] Red cars with tint on them so n***as looking but can't see Paved the way for making trap music so street n***as should thank me Ain't no way you'll out think me Ain't no way that you could jank me And all I sending is head shots cause I don't shoot at n***as feet n***as better retreat when they see me On G.P. shoot up the BP n***a died with his gun, couldn'a been me One deep on the street with a street sweep? Gucci Man, I'mma shoot you in your pee pee Get you f**ed in jail like a fefe n***as know about Flocka & Gucci Naw we ain't beef he sissy I'm the type to shoot out Peachtree You the type that wanna' be me Bullets just fly right by me These f** n***as tried to hit me You scouts don't get no brownies One shot just hit my Bentley Another hit my Charger, but it didn't hurt my hemi [Hook]