| Eskimos in the building; what up Zay? |
| I got my end, you hold down yours |
| What it do? |
| Cheah! |
| Zay in the lab with me |
| So Icey studios |
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| I got a flaming red Jacob, in my all red Jag' |
| I went to Baker's with a hundred, in my same red rag (Yeah!) |
| Your daughter with nothing but gangbangers |
| Ain't that sad? |
| She wrapping up her micro's, with my same red rag |
| Got a million dollar deal, with the same red rag |
| Five million dollar wheels, with the same red rag |
| With the same red rag, yeah, the same red rag |
| Your little brother pledged in, now he can't turn back, nigga |
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| What up blood? Blood in, no love |
| No slackers allowed, I'm making moves with thugs |
| I make plays for drugs, east Atlanta is love |
| Everybody in the clique known for totting a gun |
| Bond money on deck, I'll rob your ass |
| Niggas wives slut hoes, that my boys done dragged |
| I'm a couple mill' up, that's legal cheese |
| Already spent a quarter, on legal fees |
| Wait 'til these motherfuckers get a load of me |
| My essés in LA, yeah, they mail the weed |
| They import the kis, I export the cheese |
| It's Gucci Mane La Flare, pussies, bet you scared of me |
| Pussies! |
|
| I got a flaming red Jacob, in my all red Jag' |
| I went to Baker's with a hundred, in my same red rag (Yeah!) |
| Your daughter with nothing but gangbangers |
| Ain't that sad? |
| She wrapping up her micro's, with my same red rag |
| Got a million dollar deal, with the same red rag |
| Five million dollar wheels, with the same red rag |
| With the same red rag, yeah, the same red rag |
| Your little brother pledged in, now he can't turn back, nigga |
|
| M-I-A, daddy, all chrome Harley |
| O-Seven 'vette, on offset shorties |
| Flaka-Flaka-Flame, I'll knock down Charles Barkley |
| Hoes going crazy like I'm Nas Barkley |
| Off'n, often, I put 'em in coffins |
| Zone six niggas don't bark that often |
| Brand new forty, will stop that talking |
| Nine drop that ass, bet that ass stop walking |
| Flat Shoals, Custer, Lockland sergeant |
| Smith/M street, call me, "Back Street Shawty" |
| Gucci back balling, fuck black balling |
| I throw a bullet at you, catch it, like you Steve Largent |
|
| I got a flaming red Jacob, in my all red Jag' |
| I went to Baker's with a hundred, in my same red rag (Yeah!) |
| Your daughter with nothing but gangbangers |
| Ain't that sad? |
| She wrapping up her micro's, with my same red rag |
| Got a million dollar deal, with the same red rag |
| Five million dollar wheels, with the same red rag |
| With the same red rag, yeah, the same red rag |
| Your little brother pledged in, now he can't turn back, nigga |
|