What You Reppin'

[Verse 1: Waka Flocka Flame]

Brick Squad

Thirty bricks and forty mill, they gon' keep my pocket swell

Balling, shining, grinding, keeping it real, can't you fucking tell?

Green diamond chain, didn't impress her, this some Doublemint

Two hoes, double it, every time they sucking it

[?] on the car, sucker nigga went to fucking jail

Wide left Damu, big ring, Piru, you know your girl gon' swallow

My balls, she gon' gargle, I thought she was a model

She a Flocka groupie, she just wanna give me some coochie

'Cause I hang with Wooh, Frenchie, and my homeboy Gucci

Flocka

[Chorus: Waka Flocka Flame]

Mic check, one, two, Brick Squad strapped

Three and to the four, you better watch your back

Throw the B's and the P's and the F's for the five

And the six for some Crips and G.D.'s

So what you repping, nigga?

[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]

So Icey my family, Waka on the right of me

Frenchie on the left of me, Wooh gon' bust your ass on in

Red rag in my pocket, same color, KayO the dreads

Ask homie what goes [?], we gon' get straight to the bread

Trap nigga this, trap nigga that

Gucci Mane La Flare, where my trap niggas at?

Gucci Mane, I'm tatted up, come find me

Three million dollars, cash money

So Icey, we balling, nigga

Wife beater on, so I'm showing out my artwork

Glock 40 shell shot, I'll try to make your heart jerk

[Chorus: Waka Flocka Flame]

Mic check, one, two, Brick Squad strapped

Three and to the four, you better watch your back

Throw the B's and the P's and the F's for the five

And the six for some Crips and G.D.'s

So what you repping, nigga?

[Verse 3: Wooh da Kid]

Went out for the drama, let me know when it's crunch time

Say I ain't shit, but idolizing my punchlines

Around here, they call us So Icey Boys

I got a Carbon 15, that'll kill all the noise

And I dare a nigga to run

Why? I got a M4 on that shit, nigga, you're done

Ten-seventeen, jack boys getting guap

Put your finger in my pot, head getting shot

All black MAC, fully loaded, red rubber grip

Colorblind the haters, so I never set trip

[Chorus: Waka Flocka Flame]

Mic check, one, two, Brick Squad strapped

Three and to the four, you better watch your back

Throw the B's and the P's and the F's for the five

And the six for some Crips and G.D.'s

So what you repping, nigga?

[Verse 4: Slim Dunkin & Wooh da Kid]

What you repping, nigga? I'm repping seventeen

1017, my Brick Squad mean

My jewels shine, fuck nigga, better look out

These hoes all on me like flies at a cookout

My knuckle bruised, so I know the nigga's face hurt

You run up, bucking that .45, gonna put him in the dirt

I got the chopper, too, shawty better ask Flock

Might catch Gucc on Greg Street at six o'clock

All Wooh gotta do is say (yes)

Duct tape with the pump in his fucking chest

[Chorus: Waka Flocka Flame & Slim Dunkin]

Mic check, one, two, Brick Squad strapped...

If that's your bitch, then why the fuck she still jocking Slim?

Throw the B's and the P's and the F's for the five

And the six for some Crips and G.D.'s

So what you repping, nigga?

[Verse 5: Frenchie]

1017 soldier, why change up my swagger type?

I don't eat bitches, nah, that's not my appetite

Don't make me transform, bullets make him dance for him

Whip his head, have his ribs bloody like a tampon

So Icey Boys wild as fuck, got your bitch sucking nuts

Spitting all over the place, her name should be Daffy Duck

Double pump shawty make her body do a double front

Haters getting mortgage you can't afford, but that's what you want

On my shit, fuck a dumb bitch, they say I'm the shit

I'm a young boy and I could teach an old dog tricks