a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

gucci mane & waka flocka flame - 15th and the 1st lyrics

[intro: waka flocka flame]
uhh, uh…
ayy gucc’ mane, we good right now man!

[verse 1: gucci mane]
it’s a white girl in town: name is “cocaine”
it’s some dirty birds in town: gucci mane & waka flame
we fly in, i’m buyin’, say you got more birds? you lyin’
you trying and lying, you boys ain’t supplying
i pitch like nolan ryan, got cocaina frying
my partners stick up kids, they duct tape rope they gon’ tie it
in the bushes they lied in all night, that’s my word
by the end of the mornin’, they left with them birds
and i’m gone off that purp, and i’m slurring my words
i swerved in my benz, banged my forgi’s on the curb (d-mn!)
the lean, the herb, pay me like the 1st
you cross brick squad, get hurt, i got work – gucci!

[hook: waka flocka flame & gucci mane]
my homeboys will get you, pay you on the 33rd (yeaah!)
2 pints of lean’ll have me slurring on my words (words!)
undertaker car, triple black drop bird (nyuum)
stomach full of money, so hundreds i’mma burp (‘xcuse me..)
all the hoods love us like the 15th and the 1st (1st)
2 pints of lean’ll have me slurring on my words (words!)
undertaker car, triple black drop bird (nyuum)
stomach full of money, so hundreds i’mma burp (‘xcuse me..)
all the hoods love us like the 15th and the 1st (1st)

[verse 2: waka flocka flame]
five grand for a head shot
boy don’t be no flinstone and get your bedrocked, n-gga
triple red drop, bouncing through the parking lot
where i’m from, young n-ggas shooting at the cops (riverdaleee!)
where i’m from, they thuggin’
my hood right side, n-gga, green flagging
lay your -ss down if you do too much bragging (hahaha!)
3 k’s, 4 glocks, n-gga that’s swaggin’, uh!
penalized, then goes the packer-man
rich as h-ll, you would think i was a cracker, man
i don’t know ’em, get ba-ba-back ’em man, f-ck ’em then!
throwin’ stacks in club, what that -ss do?
every girl gettin’ past you
send an ambulance on that -ss i want that rent due
robbin every n-gga that ain’t hit squad, blood or piru!
flocka!!

[verse 3: waka flocka flame]
half a million dollar: jury like “f-ck that bird!”
n-ggas screaming they want beef, i’m like “roger that!”
my album didn’t sell, so i’m layin’ n-ggas down
shootin’ every n-gga that burp, sneeze or f-cking frown

[verse 4: yg hootie]
40 carats on my bracelet, my polo black
n-ggas talking like they want beef, i’m wanting that!
7 grams in this swisher, i’m gon’ solo that
ridin’ ’round with my strap like “where they at?”
all these rap n-ggas hold us on my philly hat
you will never be a legend like the gucci man
you will never be turnt up like my partner flock
you n-ggas hoes, i run your block when them choppers chop

- gucci mane waka flocka flame lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS