Free Gucci, Pt. 2 lyrics

[Verse 1: Fetty Wap]
Do this for my hood, I do it for Zoo Jersey
Pull up in a foreign, I’m skirting, it’s too purty
Funny moving n*ggas be making the Zoo nervous
Stay the f*ck from ‘round me you pus*y, your crew worthless
Phone keep ringing, you’re calling man too early
Only way I answer you’re bringing me two birdies
I’m very well known, I don’t think that you heard me
I’m known from down the hill way up to two thirty
Ninety-five Air Max ‘cause I’m a dope runner
Balling an athlete but got no jumper
Ayy, want a bad b*tch, gotta have bricks
Want a bad b*tch, gotta have bricks
Ninety-five Air Max ‘cause I’m a dope runner
Balling an athlete but got no jumper
Ayy, want a bad b*tch, gotta have bricks
Yeah that makes sense, and I make hits
Free the king, Gucci Guwop
Hit the scene, hit a duwop
See the beam on my new Glock
Robin jeans, got a smooth flock
Free the king, Gucci Guwop
Hit the scene, hit a duwop
See the beam on my new Glock
Robin jeans, I be too fly
[Verse 2: Frenchie]
See a n*gga looking with a face this
But I’m still cooking in the kitchen with an apron
The b*tches, yeah I f*ck ‘em like a caveman
I bet this forty cal make a n*gga break dance
First of all I gotta thank Guwop
Yeah I said Guwop, you know I had to say it two times
Got a hundred grand in the shoebox
And I got two Glocks in case a n*gga like you try
F R E N, C H I E
I don’t even need an ID
For me to get in the club, I put a n*gga on an IV
I’m fed up
Me and Fetty Wap ‘bout to get up
The top 1017 with a 38
If you hating on the squad, shut up

[Verse 3: Fetty Wap]
Set my b*tch ass on the [?] list
I ain’t tryna hear no excuses
Zoo Gang, this how we do this
All my n*ggas f*cking ruthless
Set my b*tch ass on the [?] list
I ain’t tryna hear no excuses
Zoo Gang, watch how we do this
Me and Monty comin’ through b*tch
[Verse 4: Monty]
I’m countin’ hundreds baby ‘cause I’m 17
Dope charges, it’s just a felony
Want a bad b*tch, gotta have bricks
Hope that make sense, and I make hits
I’m countin’ hundreds baby ‘cause I’m 17
Dope charges, it’s just a felony
Want a bad b*tch, gotta have bricks
Hope that make sense, and I make hits
Want a bad b*tch, gotta have bricks
Talkin’ ass tits, ridin’ fast whips
All that cash get, gon’ get that ass hit
Who you came with, you know my name b*tch
I might lane switch with the gang b*tch
She not my main b*tch, man who you came with
Uh, uh, shout out Gucci Mane b*tch
Uh, uh, shout out Gucci Mane b*tch