[Intro]
What's up fuck nigga (what's up fuck)
Keep my motherfuckin' name out yo mouth ya bitch you (pussy)
Pussy ass nigga always got (pussy) something to say (pussy)
(pussy) Snitchin' ass nigga
(pussy) Snack cake ass nigga
(pussy) What up Juice
Zaytoven
[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
Early in the morning I'm cooking a brick
See I ain't really thinking bout you snitches n shit
It's hot as a bitch but I gives a fuck
I swag through the 6 with my pistol tucked
Brick boy click put your pistols up
So Icy on my tag nigga eat my dust
I'm high as a plane and in God I trust
A nigga try us then his head is bust
I'm smarter than you nigga that's how I got my bucks
Niggas sending threats like we gives a FUCK
Nigga probably mad cuz his budget cut
And I'm in the 6 screaming "Bricks R' Us"
Gucci
[Chorus]
Gucci Mane the eskimo burr you (burr) bitch (burr)
I drop 100 racks and won't miss the shit (naw)
That fake shit, that fuck shit, bitch, miss me with
And if you baby-momma died, I wouldn't miss the bitch
Gucci Mane the eskimo burr you (burr) bitch (burr)
I drop 100 racks and won't miss the shit (naw)
That fake shit, that fuck shit, bitch, miss me with
And if you baby-momma died, I wouldn't miss the bitch
[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
I'm gangster like Al Capone or James Cagney
These rapper ain't really hard, they just actin'
I sold bricks for real, them white dragons (true)
16 to 22-5, I'm high taxin'
Depends on your tax bracket or your package
21-5 right now, and I'm happy (happy)
It jump to 23, then I'mma start clappin'
Ya folks ain't workin, shit, my shop open
I'm on deck, brick with no flex
Get snowed in like LaGuardia Airport
Got 150 bricks with no passport
And I'm good fo' 400, I ask for it
You got taxed for it, I pay cash for it
I send out for it, then bring back yorin
You got taxed for it, I pay cash for it
I send out for it, then bring back yorin, chorin
[Chorus]
Gucci Mane the eskimo burr you (burr) bitch (burr)
I drop 100 racks and won't miss the shit (naw)
That fake shit, that fuck shit, bitch, miss me with
And if you baby-momma died, I wouldn't miss the bitch
Gucci Mane the eskimo burr you (burr) bitch (burr)
I drop 100 racks and won't miss the shit (naw)
That fake shit, that fuck shit, bitch, miss me with
And if you baby-momma died, I wouldn't miss the bitch
[Verse 3: Gucci Mane]
Gucci frames, shoes, hat, and wallet, and bag
In my Gucci Corvette, I know you like that swag
Polar bear Gucci, chillin' off in my igloo
30 inch rims, so deep you fit your kids through (Well, damn!)
Keep yo' dick out my girl, Gucci forbids you (Well, damn!)
Choppa leave holes, imagine what that Sig do
Deuce-deuce button then skrrt, I lose you
So many whips, lil momma confuse you
Bart Simpson chain so strange, it's cartoon, dude
Hummer fully loaded with the chrome and moon roof
Gucci Mane and Juiceman, burr, you bitch
We'll drop 100 racks and won't miss the shit
[Chorus]
Gucci Mane the eskimo burr you (burr) bitch (burr)
I drop 100 racks and won't miss the shit (naw)
That fake shit, that fuck shit, just miss me with
And if you baby-momma died I would miss the bitch
Gucci Mane the eskimo burr you (burr) bitch (burr)
I drop 100 racks and won't miss the shit (naw)
That fake shit, that fuck shit, bitch, miss me with
And if you baby-momma died, I wouldn't miss the bitch
