[Intro: Shawnna]
Yo
Yo, yup, yo, yup
Shawnna, yup, ay
[Shawnna]
Shawnna got a 'llac, sittin' on tre
Shawnna don't need no n***a I'm paid
Shawnna got stacks, Shawnna got grip
Shawnna got dap so you better not slip
I'm posted on the block, my girls take control
This cafe Patron got me sippin real slow
I'm lookin like a star, ice on my neck
Ice on my wrist, ice on my chest
You might want to flirt, but I ain't on that
I'm way f**ed up, I'm way to' back
And I don't give a f**, I got it like that
They took a n***a deuce, I got it right back
And now they like "Damn!" Now they like "Amazin!"
Tondra rolled four, five blunts and we blazin
Look at shawty gazin, he lookin like he want me
I'm sorry lil' daddy, I'm tryin to get your homie
[Chorus: Gucci Mane]
(Lames can't call her) Lames cain't call her
(All she date is ballers) She only date ballers
(Shawty got a fetish) For boys who go get it
(Squares can't call her) So the squares cain't call her
(Lames can't call her) Lames cain't call her
(All she date is ballers) She only date ballers
(Shawty got a fetish) For boys who go get it
(She only date ballers) It's Miss Shawnna
[Gucci Mane]
I'm Gucci Mane La Flare, I'm MVP
I know your baby momma real proud of me
The Benz line say they get tired of me
I'm young kush man I sell nuttin but QP's
Shawnna so fine, Gucci Mane I'm good
She's so pretty but still so hood
Hey little darlin, how you shawty?
I'm so mall-less I can't call it
I'm so Southern, you so Northern
We so crack rock, they so corny
It's 2:30, early in mornin
The way I cook a brick it's like I'm doing a performance
All eyes on we, homegirl want me
Zay he on the track, so the track real funky
Pants Red Monkey, Gucci go donkey
n***as play crazy, get left stanky
[Chorus]
[Shawnna]
Yo, yo, ay, Shawnna
I wrote the verse three, for b**hes in the hood
My Air One b**hes, smokin on the good
Sittin on the po'ch, sippin on the 'gnac
Or posted in the parkin lot sittin on the 'llac
Them b**hes got weight, them b**hes got work
Them b**hes wanna trip, them b**hes gettin murked
And stick 'em in the dirt, and go on 'bout our bid'ness
And it ain't nuttin personal it's all about the figures
It's M.O.E., 'til a b**h a dead
And I don't give a f** about what a b**h said
I'm still gettin money, I'm still gettin rich
I'm still that woman that'll take yo' dick
And yeah the truth hurts, you still gotta face it
I spent your whole deal on my ring and my bracelet
It's top notch twat, cream of the crop
I'm beatin down your block and let them choppers chop
Chop, chop, chop, chop... {*fades*}
[Chorus]
[Outro]
Geah~! {*3X*}