JT the Bigga Figga - The Basement lyrics

Figg Panamera It's two times Gucci and I don't give excuses I used to drive a hoopty but now my life a movie I changed like Confucius so please do not confuse me Don't think 'cause I do music I won't pull out an Uzi It won't be gentle, I took it, but Gucci Mane survives Don't ask me something stupid then bury me alive Right now I'm on that new sh**, the struggle I embrace it Forever live in palace like ancient kings in Asia Big balling is my major and still got mine, the trap off Your car ' I'm balling on your stack house I'm heading out the trap house and this ain't what you wanted I put my shooters on you, you'll think your house was hunted Pounds in the bathtub, keys on the dresser My money in a great place that I can never tell you A Cinderella story, call me Cindefella sponsored links I'm making money so much the scribblers gotta bring umbrellas I double spiked the punch skipping plus the lunch I sell a thing and will prepare then eat some Captain Crunch I smoke a blunt then go to brunch today I don't do dutch I let her order what she want, order what you must, it's cool I'm fresh off the plane, fresh off the projects Back with the gang, back in the taxi I'm ash and up in the project I ain't even tripping, getting money is the object Young n***as hit me, ask me for a 3 5 Meet me at the Taxico, yeah, that's a good job Yeah, that's a good move, meet me at the high school The projects, the bad b**hes, the coppers like to strike you But I be on my night do, my Nikes do Them Jordans 16, I'mma fly dude We count money so is Cheddar Chaser I'm growing buds in the basement, no replacement Kush packs, banana, berries on the breakfast plate Some syrup on some cake, you know I'm straight 35 dime in a nickel bag, I'm at the corner store, them n***as mad I got it sawed up in the drought time Winner win a kush pack, coming in we on the grind n***as flipping money, duffle bags pushing I ain't even tripping, I'm cautious They didn't think I would be back, I told 'em wait and watch All your weight, watch your kid back, you fat, it is Oh man, grave, ain't no coming after this We the realest n***as coming from Atlanta streets Y'all thought your little rap was all a novelty I was sitting in the trenches, tryina escape poverty Probably I was selling s** or probably tryina figure out What the f** you hid your s** Hey, way before I was hitting s**, feel the avenue I was on the avenue pitching quarters Taking orders from no n***a, but the consumer I was on four n***a, I hit them right in my blues You n***a grew up with a silver spoon, I had it dust it for Had to learn to whip the law, tried to get it all n***a plant cars in the hood, but I ain't playing A lot go in my hand if I had y'all had Now n***as would cut off their hand just to have my hand I'm that n***a now, look at you, you two dealing 100% legitimate, yeah, I'm through dealing My name, hoe, I carry my own weight