Lawnmower Man lyrics

by

Gucci Mane


[Hook]
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass

[Verse 1]
Gucci Mane make a n*gga wear a sh*t bag
Acting bad, like a kid at Six Flags
I'll send some slugs at your b*tch ass
In my hood, ain't no love for your b*tch ass
Fifty pounds in a trash bag
Anybody move then that n*gga get blast at
Hit a lick for about fifty stacks
n*ggas' tripping, talking about Gucci bring the money back
Half a brick, and I'm bunking that
I'm in the trap where the junkies at
I'm getting fat, f*ck a jumping jack
Zay' drop a track, the whole industry be jocking that
I'll put a hole in your stocking cap
Work you like a b*tch at the Body Tap
I stay strapped, blow you off the map
n*ggas' hate behind my back, but when they see me give me dap

[Hook]
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
[Verse Two]
Uuuuhh, I'm from the hood, I'll punch your lights out
I took your jewelry, now I'm iced out
Gucci Mane got that 'caine in
I swear I'd never tuck my chain in
You're just a thug in training
I'm a thug entertaining
Really, I'm a street n*gga
That chopper on the seat, n*gga
I'm ready for that beef, n*gga
Young Gucci's got to eat, n*gga
I guess I'll see you when I see you, n*gga
I wouldn't want to be you, n*gga
Now, ain't that like a n*gga
Trying to sound like a n*gga
A lover not a fighter, n*gga
But let me see your lighter, n*gga

[Hook]
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass

[Verse Three]
You see the bracelet on my arm, my necklace, my charm
I'm dangerous and armed with grenades and bombs
Y'all done slumped out with tons of ones
In the club, putting on like I'm 'Dapper Don'
Yours truly, Young Gucci, all I do is hustle hard
Never had credit but used my tool as a Mastercard
Grimy and gritty, hotter than cooking with lard
Gucci Mane on the block again, and I'm cooking you boys
It's that grown ass sh*t, n*gga, bring all the toys
When I snap they'll have to call the lieutenant and sarge
Bring the whole entourage, since you thinking you hard
And watch how quick I load the chopper bullets, you've got to dodge
Uh, Gucci Mane on the track, n*gga
Zaytoven on the track, n*gga
Big Cat, La Flare, n*gga
I'm the lawnmower man, n*gga
[Hook]
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
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 #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net