Gucci-Bag Shawty

Yeah!
 They call me Gucci Bag Shawty
 Gucci Bag Shaawwtttyyy...
 Yeah!
 A.k.a. Gassed-Up Shawty
 They call me Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Keep that Glock 40...
 Geeked up off of last-night
 Leaning off that dirty sprit.
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Keep that Glock 40...
 Geeked up off of last-night
 Leaning on that dirty sprite
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag Shawty
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Keep that Glock 40...
 Geeked up off of last-night
 Leaning on that dirty sprite
 Compliments to the artists departed
 The underground mix-tape king, not your average local artist
 The hardest, the smartest, I go super ham retarded
 I'm a dog like that British Terrier working for target
 I'm on fi-yer, other rappers they tend to get burnt up
 If it ain't bout makin' money then it really don't concern us
 Niggas can't read me, and hoes can't scope me
 When I'm in your city, in your hood, don't approach me
 Play with the butterfly and get stung by the bumblebee
 Gotta know my niggas making bread, like Sarra Lee
 Your girl gets me to the crib, she tie me down and rape me
 Every skeet, she telling me, chocolate is tasty
 Mash potato man pockets full of that gravy
 Asap be retail-like Macy's
 Complement to the chief
 I'm whipping in the kitchen
 Swear I beat the pot to death
 They call me Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Keep that Glock 40...
 Geeked up off of last-night
 Leaning off that dirty sprit.
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Keep that Glock 40...
 Geeked up off of last-night
 Leaning on that dirty sprite
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag Shawty
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Keep that Glock 40...
 Geeked up off of last-night
 Leaning on that dirty sprite
 Yeah, should I gone head and turn up
 Cali bud in the swisher every time I roll up
 Two styrofoam lean ever time I pour up
 Hit the booth and wreck the mic, yeah I'm finna blow up
 Gucci Bag Shawty, keep that glock 40
 Nigga playin' with me, call me headshot shawty
 Standing in the trap, with the fork, and I'm whipping
 And my partners on them molly in the trap, you know they trippin'
 Woodgrain gripping when I'm sliding in the drop
 Every time I pull that foreign shit, I throw away my top
 So I, can look at the stars
 I'm geeked-up with them stars
 And I'm in the studio, spitin nun but freestyle barz
 Yeah, Yeah, And I got free barz, free hoes
 And I hit the mall cash out like I got free cloths
 A hundred snapbacks, ray bans to match that
 True Religion Robbin Jeans, yeah the kid clean
 They call me Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Keep that Glock 40...
 Geeked up off of last-night
 Leaning off that dirty sprit
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Keep that Glock 40...
 Geeked up off of last-night
 Leaning on that dirty sprite
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag, Gucci Bag Shawty
 Gucci Bag Shawty...
 Keep that Glock 40...
 Geeked up off of last-night
 Leaning on that dirty sprite