Gucci Mane, Key Glock, Foogiano, Ola Runt - Lifers lyrics

(30, you a motherfuckin' fool, nigga)
Glock (Huh?) yeah (Huh?) , yeah, yeah (Wop)
Yeah (yeah) , yeah (yeah) , yeah  (yeah) ,  yeah (yeah)

I heard my buddy went out bad
But I'm nothin' like my buddy 'nem
(Well, damn)
He went out sad,  it made me mad
 now I can't even fuck with him (Wow)
Them suckers them, what's up with
Them? I buck on them, scuff up them Timbs
Petty hustles, predators
Pressure them then they crumble them
Cripple nigga, shitbag, wheelchairs
I humble them bullets get to flippin' and
Fumblin' and tumblin'
"Gucci Mane, hey let's jump him
" nobody jumpin' him (No)
One man, two handguns
That's what you up against
My right arm is so-called strong
Why is the muscle big?
From whippin' dope in my long-johns
I made it jump again
I don't know where you from, holme
But you best come again
Ain't nobody sold more dope
Than me but Mexicans (It's Gucci, Wop)

Haha, ayy, I just broke my thumb again
Yeah, I been runnin' up my money
I can't run up out a win
Yup, I was runnin' wild, had to hold it down
My mom was in the pen'
And I still hold it down too
My mama ain't raise no damn fool
Yeah, I'm Big Glock, I do big shit, boy
I ain't nothin' like you
I'm flexin' hard with my young black ass
And all my cash is blue
I pull up in the Rolls or
Maybach and I'm just twenty-two
They like, "How the fuck he get that?" Shit
I been gettin' to it
Trappin' and rappin' and makin'
Moves, yeah, bitch, i been makin' moves
Yeah, stuntin' too hard
I had to play it cool
Mama told me them boys ain't cool
Glizock and Wizzop a terrible two
Yeah, bitch, we a terrible two
This watch right here cost a Lam' truck, but
Shit, I think I want a Lam' truck too

Shit for real, nigga
Nigga ain't play with this one, man (Nothin')
Fuck you talkin' 'bout? Mob (yeah)

More money, more problems
I don't give a fuck, I keep a revolver
If you got a problem, know I'ma solve 'em
Ain't heard 'bout me, then nigga
Go search your browser
I was posted up on Joe Brown for real
We was robbers, we wasn't workin' no deal
Smokin' gas, that shit be loud like Malia
Niggas talkin', but they know what it is
Huh? I got them crooked rows
(Crooked) , and I got them shotguns
I got them gangster niggas
And they got them big guns
I got them OGs, yeah, they ridin' with me
And they gon' kill somethin'
And I got them Pirus, bitch
They ain't gon' spare nothin', nah

Plug just sent a text, they in
Call my country boy, they gone
1017, Ola, we on
Sippin' Act', don't do Patrón
Chain said burr, re-up, make it disappear
On that Pimp C, talkin' slurred
Pop a Perc', my vision blurry
My bitch petite patek Philippe
Hellcat motor in my Jeep
Talkin' bars, I charge a fee
Took an '05 banger beat