Dead Man

[Intro: Gucci Mane] Call me Gucci Mane when I’m on the stage with you But call me Jesse James when I hold this damn pistol You can call me Gucci Guwop when I do a song with you But don’t walk up on me homes, I ain’t finna blow no strong with you [Verse 1: Gucci Mane] Call me Gucci Mane when I’m on the stage with you But call me Jesse James when I hold this damn pistol You can call me Gucci Guwop when I do a song with you But don’t walk up on me homes, I ain’t finna blow no strong with you Got them young shooters with me they don't get along with you If you ain’t get no money nigga what is wrong with you And I can't turn you on, you must have the wrong picture I'm in the VIP sippin' lean with this very long Swisher I’m drinkin' promethazine and codeine and this apple juice mixture If you knew that you wouldn't do that I swear you would not kiss her Yous a Nicky Barnes ass nigga tryin to tell on Guy Fisher If a snitch was to die today I bet his hood would not miss him [Chorus: Gucci Mane] Yous a dead man, playing games with the bread Yous a dead man, I put that pistol to your head man Dead man you’re playing games with my bread You in the red man, fuck around and be a dead man Dead man, dead man, yous a dead man Dead man, dead man, yous a dead man Dead man, I put that pistol to your head man Dead man, I put that pistol to your head man, dead man [Verse 2: Young Scooter] Five deuce, four-tray, six eight Eight watches, four chains six rings Pots, forks: dope at a high cost From coast to coast, I said numbers on the dope Remix to you, you know I can sell you both 16-5 Prices lower then Shawty Lo, when I drive Got my seat leanin low bricks inside Gott'em stash in the door always road running Me and Gucci getting money bands yeah keep comin' Tractor trailer in the morning won’t stop jugging Every month I make 4 hundred, I’m a street nigga I got rich off of junkies [Chorus: Gucci Mane] Yous a dead man, playing games with the bread Yous a dead man, I put that pistol to your head man Dead man you’re playing games with my bread You in the red man, fuck around and be a dead man Dead man, dead man, yous a dead man Dead man, dead man, yous a dead man Dead man, I put that pistol to your head man Dead man, I put that pistol to your head man, dead man [Verse 3: Trae the Truth] What the fuck was you thinking the bitch you must have been drinking This chopper had got me feeling like harley If I let it ride you’re bound to be stinkin I’m an asshole I do what I’d like too On shit thats made for you to fight to I don’t give a fuck bitch I don’t like you Got that fire bitch I might light you Bitch I am the streets you just look tough Call the bricks snow like I was on bluff Call me the master like Sho'Nuff Bad boy the forreal no puff If a nigga pussy I don’t pimp mine I just keep the distance don’t play with mine Stay in your place fall out the line Had the young niggas over here to pay a fine You can find me in the hood what a hood don’t go Heard that somebody the hood don’t know If a nigga turn up tellem watch this show Money never sit still so my net don’t blow King of the streets just call me sire All my throne they no one higher T-R-U-T-H no liar Real street nigga I won’t retire [Chorus: Gucci Mane] Yous a dead man, playing games with the bread Yous a dead man, I put that pistol to your head man Dead man you’re playing games with my bread You in the red man, fuck around and be a dead man Dead man, dead man, yous a dead man Dead man, dead man, yous a dead man Dead man, I put that pistol to your head man Dead man, I put that pistol to your head man, dead man