Dead People lyrics

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]
I got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread
Got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread
I got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread
Got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
Got a pocket full of dead guys
Evil voices in my head tellin' me to watch the feds
And I love sellin' cake pies
It's a bad b*tch in my bed and she got that stupid head
Got me Versace, shop, shawty, catch me walkin' out of 5ths
With a lit Glock 40 and a couple extra clips
Lenox Mall in the closet, all my hoes exotic
And ain't that sh*t ironic that my doors go up, robotic?
I can walk the sh*t and I can talk the sh*t
I can talk the sh*t cause I got it
It's Gucci Mane, I'm a walkin' lick
Got dead people in my pocket
Fallin' off in Follie's, got a bag full of the mollies
A half a mil' off profit, and my Muller got her jockin'
[Chorus: Gucci Mane]
I got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread
Got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread
I got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread
Got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread

[Verse 2: Raury]
I've been livin' like a king all week
I'm a peasant at the end of every day
I've been chillin' with my n*ggas in the streets
Livin' like a vagabond, wild, free, run away
Reminiscin' 'bout them bored summer days
Blowin' haze on the east side of Atlanta
Makin' moves on the shawty, a Hispania
We don't speak the same language so excuse me if I stammer
I understand you wanna pick up the hammer
And build up your own, she see her brother climbin' the ladder
It's your time, yeah it's somethin' that you figure
I mean you can do it too but you can't be a b*tch ass n*gga
Get up off your ass, find a f*ckin' craft
Make bread, get it back, give it back times 2
Who are you? Look in the mirror
Don't give a f*ck what they think, you're the one, you're the truth
Got the juice, got the juice, got the juice, got the juice
Mothaf*cka you the man like an 8th grade Jew
You can chew through any zebra ass in the zoo
Any n*gga tryna act hard as some leather boots, f*ck them
And anyone tryna step on you, fire burnin'
n*gga learnin', stay concernin' bout your paper
Now and later ain't really good time
For a n*gga 'bout his business on Wood Crest Manor
[Chorus: Gucci Mane]
I got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread
Got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread
I got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread
Got a pocket full of dead people
Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread