From the Streets lyrics
by Gucci Mane
[Hook]
In the trap eating busy bee’s, Rich the kid, I’m from the street
I got ice all over me, got four ho’s in the back seat
My pockets so swoll like a fat n*gga, Had the gas and the pills I was taxing ya’
Had to tell mama we made it! b*tch in the coupe goin’ crazy
[Hook]
In the trap eating busy bee’s, Rich the kid, I’m from the street
I got ice all over me, got four ho’s in the back seat
My pockets so swoll like a fat n*gga, Had the gas and the pills I was taxing ya’
Had to tell mama we made it! b*tch in the coupe goin’ crazy
(Verse 1)
In the coupe goin’ crazy, no license
She wanna f*ck, yeah cause of my diamonds
I ain’t finna buy the b*tch red bottoms, she must be crazy.(b*tch you crazy!)
Had the pus*y more diamonds than the Rich the kid Chain
Shooters on shooters, ain’t saying no names
I got the gwalla just look at my ring
QC the label they not playing no games
Put my wrist in the pot water whip with the watch, cause my motherf*ckin’ rollie is a waterproof
Everything Vintage, you can not find it. Me and your b*tch, somewhere in Hawaii
I ain't really worried bout nothing cause a n*gga keep a chopper.(In the trap..trap..trap..)
Eating Busy B’s, Rich n*gga in the foreign I don’t need no key
(Hook) 2x
In the trap eating busy bee’s, Rich the kid, I’m from the street
I got ice all over me, got four ho’s in the back seat
My pockets so swoll like a fat n*gga, Had the gas and the pills I was taxing ya’
Had to tell mama we made it! b*tch in the coupe goin’ crazy
(Verse 2)
Pockets on swoll like a fat n*gga, Rocking the work, no taxin’?
I ain’t never been a fake watch busta. These b*tch gon’ f*ck, can’t trust ‘em
Ridin’ round, sippin’ on lean. My chopper got an infrared beam
Trap gon’ Jump got fiends. Ain’t talkin bout Alicia, got keys
Rich the Kid, I’m from the street, Yeah I made it, so I got to thank Jesus
She gave me nothin’ but head, no Beavis. That brain so good, no genius
Like French, I ain’t worried bout nothin’. That pistol got a hundred round drum
In the trap like Busy B’s, I’m about your b*tch like an mp3
(Hook) 2x
In the trap eating busy bee’s, Rich the kid, I’m from the street
I got ice all over me, got four ho’s in the back seat
My pockets so swoll like a fat n*gga, Had the gas and the pills I was taxing ya’
Had to tell mama we made it! b*tch in the coupe goin’ crazy