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waka flocka flame - pockets on gas light lyrics

[intro: waka flocka flame]
broke -ss n-gg-

[chorus: waka flocka flame]
pockets on full, his on e
quarter tank -ss n-gg-s ain’t seeing me
i’ve been getting paid, he trying to get right
shawty mad ’cause his pockets on gas light
pockets on full, his on e
quarter tank -ss n-gg-s ain’t seeing me
i’ve been getting paid, he trying to get right
shawty mad ’cause his pockets on gas light

[verse 1: eldorado red]
his pockets on e like he running out of gas
eldorado red, i’m never running out of cash
dope boy swag, i keep a duffel bag
and guess what, n-gg-? that b-tch filled with rags
me and waka flocka and gucci gucci
we take your b-tch, never to the movies
to the hotel, in and out our door
in the club, throwing money, boy, i’m showing off
half a brick of soda got me stunting good
i don’t need to lie, i’ma keep it hood
old school donk, p-ssy paint wet
purple and green, yeah, i’m on my set
i love to flex, got stupid diamonds
no record deal, but i’m still shining
me and yg hoot hopping out that bentley coupe
i keeps some young n-gg-s with me and they gon’ shoot

[verse 2: yg hootie]
let a n-gg- take you out, b-tch, gangstas like dough
you ain’t in my lane, your maintenance light’s on
a full tank of gas and i push b-ttons fast
did donuts on the deuce line when i brought that money back
it’s hoo-doe in that two-door when i’m swerving
[?] what i’m serving, balling like a person
heard he mad at me, but i ain’t never heard him
he must know better, my flag red, oh, it’s burgan-
dy, i’m a g from the p, pockets never on gas light
and if they is, i’ma hit a lick to get back right
i hit for 30 racks, i hit for 40 racks
back to slanging yayo like, “where e-40 at?”
my hood evil, n-gg-, you full of that phony yak
nfl program, all i do is quarterback
getting ot money on cali soil
making your b-tch’s p-ssy boil, my plan never foils

[verse 3: waka flocka flame]
his gas light on, his pockets on empty
old half-a-tank n-gg-s can’t f-ck with me
pockets on full, yours on e
my trapping jersey worth about two bricks
just hit a lick, so i’m super straight
i got that super cake, diamonds h-lla bright
like the sunlight, call it crushed ice
green diamond chain the same color as a can of sprite
what’s my appet-te? about a quarter million
r.i.p. biggie, west side bloods f-cking with me
i’m the down south blood, what it do, blood?
when you be me in the club, you see a real n-gg-

- waka flocka flame lyrics

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