Wow

[Verse 1: The Game]

My car, my bitch nigga, everything major

My niggas they shoot like Indiana Pacers

Indiana Hoosiers don’t get marked by the laser

Wet your fucking team up, meaning hollows will bathe ya

Red phantom pink slip, everything paid for

Black 24’s lips fatter than Fantasia's

Had a bitch from Asia, put her up on the chronic

And her name Soo Woo, isn’t it ironic?

My bars Grey Goose and tonic, and when I vomit

Respect me like Mohamed, but nigga I’m not Islamic

All about my profit, angel in the cockpit

Devil in the rearview, heaven’s the only option

Angel on the hood like Reverend Run's crooks

Today I’m feeling good riding in his holy ghost

Hate me like I’m God's son, wanna see me deceased?

Break the 6th commandment if you run up on this Jesus piece

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]

Wow

My whip like wow, my wrist like chick like neck iced out

My rims like wow, I’m smoking right now

You cry and say ow, cause my gun go pow

[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]

Balling, like Amar'e

I’m not an athlete but it’s a track meet

I’m on a great run, the world love me

Some love to hate me, it’s all gravy

I'm so icy, so punch your brakes nigga

Ice cream on my face, it ain’t your face nigga

I’m on my grind constant, yeah my grind constant

While you cross counties, we cross continents

Yellow diamonds on my wrist it's looking like a omelette

I’m not a bumpkin, my trap bunkin'

I got onions, squares for you

Powerful goons, prepared for you

So what the move blood, I'm tattood up

I’m a straight thug, I keep a coke plug

So what the move blood, I'm tattood up

I’m a straight thug, I keep a coke plug

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]

Wow

My whip like wow, my wrist like chick like neck iced out

My rims like wow, I’m smoking right now

You cry and say ow, cause my gun go pow

[Verse 3: The Game]

Game, Gucci, we onto something major

Chains, coochie, light it up like Vegas

Down goes Frasier, my shooters like Peja

And we keep that Lupe run when you see them lasers

We be them trailblazers smoking kush from Malaysia

Still trapping, like back then, now iPhones is pagers

Click clackin, what’s happening .45 at you haters

Keep yapping, I’m clapping, T.I. know we takers

Nigga, I don't give a damn, them sixes sitting ceiling fans

Get your boss on your phone cause we don’t fuck with middle men

Hit your boss at your home fucking with my little man

Where I’m from it’s off with your dome for just a kilogram

Gucci they talking about that tat up on your face

Must of forgotten them boys you shot nigga murder was the case

This summer is ours ain't a motherfucker safe

And in the fall, I'm puttin' 5 mill in a fucking safe like

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]

Wow

My whip like wow, my wrist like chick like neck iced out

My rims like wow, I’m smoking right now

You cry and say ow, cause my gun go pow