Backseat lyrics

by

Waka Flocka Flame


[Hook: Gucci Mane]
Man I'm riding round 1 deep, yup, yup , yup, yup
With that choppa on the back seat
Ball, ball, ball, ball
And I ain't worry bout you f*ck n*ggas, squad, hahaha squad!
Man I ain't worry bout you f*ck n*ggas, you know!
Bow, bow, bow, bow
I said I'm riding round 1 deep, you know
With that choppa on the back seat, you know! yeah!
So I ain't worry bout you f*ck n*ggas, nah yeah!
So I ain't worry bout you f*ck n*ggas, Nah Bow, bow

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
I got a AR-15 on the back of the seat
Knock your head out clean to the back of the Jeep
And since I'm Gucci baby giving me the 3rd degree
b*tch I ain't nothing these rappers serve more Junies than me
So much today's hottest stars ain't got more money than me
They told me Gucci step up your bars
I told 'em step up this CHEESE!
I'm bout to really go sheae just like drew breeze my n*gg
And everytime I do a feature, 50 pounds of meat
Me and flocka twin choppas, we pop bottles and lick
I see your contract my n*gga, that ain't no money to live
Got me f*cked up, down to sleep and under the bridge
I'm eating good, f*ck food, 60 bricks in the fridge, it's Gucci!!!
[Hook: Gucci Mane]

[Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame]
One deep in the gold just weed and a choppa
Make your frame came you that's the power of the dollar
Your n*ggas wild, but my n*ggas wilder
Got an army of killers, no coing power
Extendos in my handguns, 100 rounds spent now 1
Shooting best friends and loved ones
We shooting n*gga, no feel ones
Point a n*gga out, we fill one
Can't walk a mile in my air ones
Hunned goons, I wish one
Put 50 bands in your grand son
Send a picture back with a ransom
I need a million dollars shawty and some
I'm the wrong n*gga to put hands on
Down industry we hands on
I'm from clayton county, riverdale
Black ski mask, no clientelle
This Jurrasic Park, welcome to hell
You seen the threats we ring the bells
Front door, service, make 100 goons feel like no help
2 possy Glocks till the barrel melt
Make your son feel the same pain I felt, bast*rd!
[Hook: Gucci Mane]

[Verse 3: Chief Keef]
Got green like churanchulas
You don't want my cancer bra
I smoke you but I don't know you bra
Bout to get your benzes up
I'm manning up, banding up
Dummy don't get damaged up
I done did all kind of stuff
Selling dope, robbing stuff
Tek under my seat
Wish a f*ck n*gga try me
Room full of killers move by me
And they move in silence
Getting head from a b*tch that's Chinese
Couple killers behind me
All my n*ggas grimey
And you know where to find me, b*tch I'm

[Hook: Gucci Mane]
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