Gucci Mane - Make Love lyrics

Published

0 356 0

Gucci Mane - Make Love lyrics

[Intro: Nicki Minaj & Gucci Mane] Uh, Gucci Wanna make love, love, love [Verse 1: Gucci Mane] King of the skreets And when these s**as see me, they should bow to my feet And kiss the ground underneath I look down at the beef That sh** childish to me Two hundred thousand to see me And it's been sold out for weeks Can't brush shoulders with me These stones in my choker are 2 karats apiece Look like boulders to me Damn, who colder than me? You think he colder than me? You more bipolar than me You talkin' crazy I'm tryna book Beyoncé for my wedding day I'm the type of n***a, spend a million on a wedding cake n***as hate, but hesitate They hate to see ya elevate I just left out the gym I'm 'bout to take a swim and meditate Woo! Now it's time to celebrate Ask me why I'm smilin' I say, "'Cause I make two mil' a day" And I might take your b**h and pay her bills That's how I feel today And I just wanna f** Don't wanna chill, that's how I feel today [Chorus: Gucci Mane] I'm makin' money like I'm makin' sweet love I wanna make love, love, love She say the money make her wanna make love Wanna make love, love, love, huh [Verse 2: Nicki Minaj] Ay yo, ain't talkin' housewives, but I'm in the Porsche First I'ma scorch her, then I'ma torch her Then I'ma torture her, then I'ma off her A million dollars for a show, they made their off-er Go against Nicki, it's gon' cost ya 'Cause now it's f** ya, intercourse ya I rep Queens where they listen to a bunch of Nas I'm a yes and these b**hes is a bunch of nahs Tryin’ to win a gunfight with a bunch of knives I win, get off the bench and give a bunch of fives I don't see her b**h I'm the greatest, no Kendrick and no Sia I'm the iPhone, you the Nokia Everybody know you jealous, b**h it's so clear Tell them bum a** b**hes to play their role She see my s**y a** every time she scroll I got it in the can, Dole Your career gon' be with Anna Nicole Witcha dumba** face She ain't eatin' but I swear she got some bum a** taste Text her man like, "Dawg, how that bum a** taste?" Pay your rent! And stay in your bum a** place Oooohhh, oh you the qu-e-e-the queen of this here? One platinum plaque, album flopped, b**h, where? (b**h, where?) Hahaha, ahhhhh I took two bars off just to laugh You see, silly rabbit, to be the queen of rap You gotta sell records, you gotta get plaques S, plural like the S on my chest Now sit your dumba** down You got an F on your test [Chorus: Gucci Mane] I'm makin' money like I'm makin' sweet love I wanna make love, love, love She say the money make her wanna make love Wanna make love, love, love, huh [Outro: Gucci Mane] I love to see the money stack up Hope that we don't ever, ever break up (up) Wanna make love, love, love

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.