More songs by Gucci Mane
More songs by BossMan Dlow
Description
Associated Performer: BossMan Dlow feat. Gucci Mane
Associated Performer: BossMan Dlow
Associated Performer: Gucci Mane
Composer: Devante McCreary
Composer: Radric Davis
Composer: Jack Thierer
Producer: Yakree
Mixing Engineer: Dub The Prodigy
Lyrics and translation
Original
(Thanks, Yakree) uh, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah
Count that dough, put that over there, let's get it right, you hear me? (Big Za)
I'm a shit talker, I'm a shit popper (shit popper)
He got money problem, he ain't got a thousand dollars (got a thousand dollars)
We some real trapper, we get real active (real active)
Say yo' pockets smaller, she only fuck with ballers (real ballers)
Countin' blue hunnid, then I rubber band it, boy (rubber band it, boy)
In the club throwin' ones left-handed, boy (left-handed, boy)
Let me grab that ass, baby, so I know it's real (come here, baby)
Ay, you broke, boy, you ain't got no bidness over here (why you over here?)
Rich nigga preference, that's a great selection (great selection)
Babygirl exhausted, she lookin' for the bosses (for the bosses)
Neck goin' stupid, wrist too icy, nigga (bling)
Say she want Louis, say she tired of Nike, nigga (nigga)
Maybach cost a quarter, I'm eatin' steak and oyster (yeah)
I like Rolls-Royces, got too many choices (yeah)
You wanna win, call us, wake up, fuck the mall up (nigga)
E'ry car fogged up, and my pockets clogged up (yeah)
I don't wanna rap with you, boy, I got shit to do (I got shit to do)
Dawg shit in a two-seater, this a chicken coupe (this a chicken coupe)
Put a hunnid in my mouth, I just left Johnny, huh (bling, bling)
Big Za in the club, it's a damn tsunami (Big Za)
I'm a shit talker, I'm a shit popper (shit popper)
He got money problem, he ain't got a thousand dollars (got a thousand dollars)
We some real trapper, we get real active (real active)
Say yo' pockets smaller, she only fuck with ballers (real ballers)
Countin' blue hunnids, then I rubber band it, boy (rubber band it, boy)
In the club throwin' ones left-handed, boy (left-handed, boy)
Let me grab that ass, baby, so I know it's real (come here, baby)
Ay, you broke, boy, you ain't got no bidness over here (why you over here? Go)
I got real paper, real tall paper (uh)
I hide my money in the wall, I call it wallpaper (damn)
I only smoke flavors and all my suits tailored
I got my neighbors mad 'cause my house bigger than my neighbors' (facts)
I'm a rich nigga, I need a rich bitch
Shawty seen the Wop, she's tryna risk it (mwah)
Drop-top Ferrari, so you know the top is off (off)
She say she scared of spiders, so I had to drop her off (go)
I ain't got no worries, I got rich-nigga problems (problems)
And when it come to poppin', I'm like Orville Redenbacher (poppin')
Part-time rapper, full-time shit talker
Can I touch, see if it's real, bae? 'Cause that shit wobblin' (it's Gucci)
I'm a shit talker, I'm a shit popper (shit popper)
He got money problem, he ain't got a thousand dollars (got a thousand dollars, well, damn)
We some real trapper, we get real active (real active, active)
Say yo' pockets smaller, she only fuck with ballers (ballers)
Countin' blue hunnids, then I rubber band it, boy (rubber band it, boy)
In the club throwin' ones left-handed, boy (left-handed, boy, Wop)
Let me grab that ass, baby, so I know it's real (come here, baby)
Ay, you broke, boy, you ain't got no bidness over here (why you over here? Go, go, go, go)