Waka Flocka Flame - 15th And The 1st lyrics

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Waka Flocka Flame - 15th And The 1st lyrics

[Intro] Uhh, uhh Ayy Guc' Mane, we good right now man Get money good man [Verse 1: Gucci Mane] It's a white girl in town - name is Cocaine It's some dirty birds in town - Gucci Mane & Waka Flame We fly in, on buy-in, say you got more birds? You lyin You tryin and lyin, you boys ain't supplyin I pitch like Nolan Ryan, got c**allina flyin My partners stick up kids, duct tape rope they gon' tie in In the bushes they lyed in all night that's my word By the end of the mornin they left with them birds And I'm gone off that purp', and I'm slurrin my words I swerved in my Benz, bangin my 4G's on the curb The lean, the herb, pay me like the first You cross Brick Squad, get hurt I got work - Gucci [Chorus] My homeboys will get you, pay you on the 33rd Two pints of lean'll have me slurrin on my words Undertaker car, triple black drop bird Stomach full of money, so hundreds I'ma burp All the hoods love us like the 15th and the 1st Two pints of lean'll have me slurrin on my words Undertaker car, triple black drop bird Stomach full of money, so hundreds I'ma burp All the hoods love us like the 15th and the 1st [Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame] Five grand for a head shot Boy don't be no Flintstone and get yo' (Bedrocked), n***a! Triple red drop, offsets through the parkin lot Where I'm from, young n***az shootin at the cops Where I'm from, they fakin My hood right side, n***a, green flaggin Lay yo' a** down if you do too much braggin Three case, four Glocks, n***a that's swaggin, ughh Penalized, then goes the Packer-Man What'cha hell, you would think it was a cracker-man I don't know 'em bah-bah-bah-bah-back'em man f** 'em den! Throw my stash in the club that there'll do Every girl gettin past you Send an ambulance on that a** I want that rent due Robbin every n***a that ain't Hit Squad, Blood or Piru FLOCKA!! [Chorus] [Verse 3: YG Hootie] Half a million dollar j**elry like "f** that bird!" n***az screamin they want beef, I'm like (Roger That)! My album didn't sell, so I'm layin n***az down Shootin every n***a, that burst leaves a f**in frown Forty carats on my bracelet, my Polo black n***az talkin like they want beef, I'm wantin that Seven grams in the Swisher, I'm gon' solo that Ridin around with my strap like "Where they at?" All these rap n***az hold up, stole my Philly hat You will never be a legend like the Gucci Mane You will never be turnt up like my partner Flock' You n***az hoes I run your block when them choppers chop [Chorus]