Young Thug - OMG BRO lyrics

[Verse: Gucci Mane] Hold up, homes, I got my gold on, homes I roll with real life robbers but can't do no wrong I got a jet black tone, all black foams And I might crack your dome like I just cracked my iPhone My pants sagging low but baby this is (?) Twenty thousand every pocket so my belt can't help it Green and white sweater, b**h, but I'm no Celtic Chilling in the M-Town, but I'm not Elvis Velour Versace jogging suit (this not velvet!) Thirty pints for me to drink (I'm so selfish!) A n***a went broke and his main ho pregnant Gucci cash got low bet the whole crest felt it I snatch a n***a chain out, hey let's melt it Got lit for sixty bricks so I just MapQuest it I smoke blunts for dinner and I drink lean for breakfast I put four O's of lean in a lil bitty Mistic [Hook: Young Thug] Hey, OK, OK (OK then) You gonna take it no way (No way then) Yep, motherf**, yep motherf** Money talk, credit talk Guwop, my blood brother Put my ice in your cup, it might not melt (Oh my God, bro) Got my Olympic Jordans on, I'm feeling like Phelps (Oh my God, bro) I'm cashed out like Mike, no Epps (I'm gonna cash out) Versace on my boxers, look like a belt (Oh my God, bro) [Verse: Young Thug] Me and Guwop stay on the same street, my n***a (blat blat blat) Ever ever catch you round there I'm pulling my trigger (blat blat blat) I go a whole hundred bars like I'm at Tigger's (wooh, wooh) You ain't rich till you got about six figures (Thugga Thugga, baby!) Put your Rolie up, put your motherf**ing Rolie up That bad b**h in VIP wanna notice us (she wanna f** me) No smoking on that bush like Magnolia, bro Got bands on top of bands, I'm up like Folgers, bro Young Thug backstabbing, I ain't brabbin' Your ho want a lot of wood like a cabin Nickname Damion, stay acting (actor) Even though I keep a smile, need to stop this madness [Hook]