Gucci the Eskimo

[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