Raury - Dead People lyrics

[Hook: Gucci Mane] I got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread Got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread I got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread Got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread [Verse 1: Gucci Mane] Got a pocket full of dead guys Evil voices in my head tellin' me to watch the feds And I love sellin' cake pies It's a bad b**h in my bed and she got that stupid head Got me Versace, shop, shawty, catch me walkin' out of 5ths With a lit Glock 40 and a couple extra clips Lenox Mall in the closet, all my hoes exotic And ain't that sh** ironic that my doors go up, robotic? I can walk the sh** and I can talk the sh** I can talk the sh** cause I got it It's Gucci Mane, I'm a walkin' lick Got dead people in my pocket Fallin' off in Follie's, got a bag full of the mollies A half a mil' off profit, and my Muller got her jockin' [Hook: Gucci Mane] I got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread Got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread I got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread Got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread [Verse 2: Raury] I've been livin' like a king all week I'm a peasant at the end of every day I've been chillin' with my n***as in the streets Livin' like a vagabond, wild, free, run away Reminiscin' 'bout them bored summer days Blowin' haze on the east side of Atlanta Makin' moves on the shawty, a Hispania We don't speak the same language so excuse me if I stammer I understand you wanna pick up the hammer And build up your own, she see her brother climbin' the ladder It's your time, yeah it's somethin' that you figure I mean you can do it too but you can't be a b**h a** n***a Get up off your a**, find a f**in' craft Make bread, get it back, give it back times 2 Who are you? Look in the mirror Don't give a f** what they think, you're the one, you're the truth Got the juice, got the juice, got the juice, got the juice Mothaf**a you the man like an 8th grade Jew You can chew through any zebra a** in the zoo Any n***a tryna act hard as some leather boots, f** them And anyone tryna step on you, fire burnin' n***a learnin', stay concernin' bout your paper Now and later ain't really good time For a n***a 'bout his business on Wood Crest Manor [Hook: Gucci Mane] I got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread Got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread I got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread Got a pocket full of dead people Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread