[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
I done robbed n***as, been robbed n***a
I done shot n***as, been shot at n***a
If you love your n***as you fire for your n***as
Cause Waka my n***a, I'd die for my n***a
Spent seventy-five on this Rollie'
Tote a .45 like the police
If I'm a ho, come show me
Big Gucci O.G. like Tookie
If you told her why just like Pookie
Then I'mma gonna have to k** a junky
Since Nino snitched at the end my n***a he cannot be my role model
Like Big Meech, like John Gotti
I ain't never told on nobody
Got tear drops, but nobody
Blew your brains out your head to make you think about it
I'm cancerous, I'm the dangerous
And I don't need no n***a, I can handle this
I got good aim, I don't panic quick
And I have a n***a funeral candle lit
Like Dunk say, you wanna rob n***a, well me and you probably on the same sh**
This ain't a lick, and I don't know you
'Fore I shake your hand, I put a hole in it
[Hook: Gucci Mane]
You ain't gonna bring me my bread n***a
Can't interfere with my money
I'mma put change on your head n***a
Can't interfere with my money
Heard you snitching to the feds n***a
They can't interfere with my money
I ain't got time to be playing with ya'
Can't interfere with my money
Heard you ain't got no money no more
But it can't interfere with my money
Say that you running up on me n***a
But it can't interfere with my money
Fronted you some and you still ain't paid
But it can't interfere with my money
Like I'm a b**h, I'm gon' let you play
But it can't interfere with my money
[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
Treat the rap game like the trap game, so you can't interfere with my money
Treat these rap n***as like little kids, when you do wrong you get punished
I'm an M.C. but I'm from the street, these f** n***as ain't one-hundred
Got monkey nuts on my handgun, so my nine hold 'bout two-hundred
Seen a YouTube, 'bout a n***a saying that he gon' do me then run it
But the only thing he gon' do is start running when I start gunning
'Fore I'm talking to you, I'm busting at you, this Russian prolly crack your bone marrow
Let your brother be your pallbearer, shoot you in your head like cousin Harold
All my n***as got pistols on 'em, all my guns got extensions on 'em
Turned your favorite rapper to a victim, homie
And no witnesses to be snitching on me
Say the n***a died with his pistol on him
Crime scene, taking pictures of him
Had a wake funeral and a shower for him
When you see the n***a, lay a flower on him
[Hook]
[Verse 3: OG Boo Dirty]
Gangster as I wanna be, mobbing to the third degree
No n***a gon' f** with me, I keep them shooters 'round me
And I don't really f** with n***a, why the f** they trying me?
My hand where that nine be, two shots through your eyelids
These rap n***as getting distorted, that's why I'm glad I'm a trap n***a
Million dollar strap n***a, brains in your lap n***a
O.G. of my city, check my status n***a
Shooting like John Paxson n***a
My goons automatic n***a
When it's time to ride out, my n***as don't hide out
Choppers in the hideout, time to break the iron out
We k**ing for them rubber bands, bombing like Afghanistan
Pull up in a Hummer truck, spit fire out like I'm drummer boy
[Hook]