sh*t Crazy lyrics

by

Gucci Mane


[Intro: BIG30 & Gucci Mane]
Twysted Genius, baby
Get back, get back
Yeah (Wop)
Ha, yeah
Ha

[Chorus: BIG30]
Man, this sh*t crazy
I'm in Miami with Gucci, Rolls Royce look like flavors
This murder sh*t ain't nothin' to me, whackin' sh*t on the daily
Lil' b*tch say she ain't heard of me, told the lil' b*tch she gave me
Still trappin' up off my flip, wish I could go trap off my pager

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
I see these n*ggas hatin', I ain't losin' sleep about it, though
Members creep like TLC, .223 shells out the Jeep
No one gon' take care of me the way that I take care of me
Get booked in from security, your bodyguard ain't scarin' me
Put your friend in therapy, you know I did it, barely live
Askin' me, "Take care of it," I squash it if I pay the bill
I don't play detective games, they play, no, I don't play with them
I don't freepick n*ggas, when I beef, I show no favoritism
Lil' boy still need training wheels, these army guns, not baby pistols
All these folks and babies in my house, I'm like a babysitter
Gucci Mane, it's Shiesty, twins, we bait 'em and then play the n*gga
But sh*t get frenzy, twin F&N's, stand on ten, I raised the n*gga
Shootin' first, then did the verse, my bank account go crazy, n*gga
Police keep on tasin' n*ggas, one shot killed him, matched the n*gga
Shiesty, that's my Dirk Nowitzki, ain't no way I'm tradin', n*gga
No shade, I'm too rich to fade, he ran up, so I blazed the n*gga

[Chorus: BIG30]
Man, this sh*t crazy
I'm in Miami with Gucci, Rolls Royce look like flavors
This murder sh*t ain't nothin' to me, whackin' sh*t on the daily
Lil' b*tch say she ain't heard of me, told the lil' b*tch she gave me
Still trappin' up off my flip, wish I could go trap off my pager

[Verse 2: BIG30]
Sent your mama to snitch on me, man, these n*ggas some b*tches
Makin' posts, sendin' threats and sh*t, where I'm from, man, it's snitchin'
Might jump out on your block with the semi and get to tickin'
Race to you with this choppa, stand over you 'til you finished
My n*ggas ig'nant, so many choppas in one car, man, look, this sh*t ridiculous
We drove fourteen hours from Memphis with dope and some Glizzies
We keep steppin' and keep on spinnin', we constantly be sendin'
Choppa Gang run the city

[Chorus: BIG30]
Man, this sh*t crazy
I'm in Miami with Gucci, Rolls Royce look like flavors
This murder sh*t ain't nothin' to me, whackin' sh*t on the daily
Lil' b*tch say she ain't heard of me, told the lil' b*tch she gave me
Still trappin' up off my flip, wish I could go trap off my pager
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