Backwards lyrics

[Intro: Gucci Mane]
Zaytoven
Gucci Mane, Gucci Mane, Gucci Mane, Gucci Mane, Gucci Mane, Gucci (Yeah)
Wizop, the Wizop, the Wizop, the Wizop, the Wizop, the (Wop)
Gucci, the Gucci, the Gucci, the Gucci, Guwop and the Gucci (Wop)
(Hah, it's Gucci)

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
God keep coverin' me with drip, I think he tryna smother me (On God)
They stopped me at the border, had too many felonies
I'm splashin', I ain't even drippin' (Splashin')
Laughin', I ain't even trippin' (Haha)
I'm crashin', I ain't even dissin' (Crash)
Heard you drop some', I ain't even listen
No one realer, triller, street gorilla
I pull up like Chauncey Billups
n*gga don't gas me, I don't need a fill up
Pick her up and make her suck my di*k 'til she hiccup
Wop lookin' slim like a bicycle rim
But his bank obese, and the pockets on chubby
He'll play head coach just like Lovie
Thuggin' in public, these hoes love it
I double and triple, quadruple your budget
Baseball money like David Justice (Money)
Whole load sold, I ain't even touched it
Underarm kush, damn, the room so musty
Most of you rappers all style, no substance
Big old rocks on, they disgust me (Burr)
n*ggas talk but never touch me (Nah)
Broke haters can't tell me nothin'
[Verse 2: Meek Mill]
f*ck 'em (Who? Who? Who? Who?)
Yeah, this that Meek Mill, Gucci Mane (Gucci Mane)
Young n*ggas swingin' through F&Ns
They gon' come right back to you like a boomerang (Brr)
Louis and Saint Laurent drip, ooh (Drip)
Pimp on these b*tches like Pootie Tang (Pimpin')
He wanna beef 'bout a b*tch
But we all f*ckin' her, so he don't know who to blame
She wanna check from me, huh (Check)
She got a check for me, huh (Check)
f*ckin' the two baddest b*tches off Instagram, they on that ecstasy, hey
Diamonds like Voss, and I got the sauce, I mix up the recipe, woah
'Fore all this rappin' sh*t, I was a trapper, the plug gon' invest in me, woah
Jumped off the porch, I got a Porsche
Too many hitters, they can't extort
I take a mil' to the table, no fork
Then split it up with my dawg like divorce
They shot at us, it was by force
We shot at them, they went to court
I don't wan' be with these n*ggas no more
I can't even beef with these n*ggas no more
Shorty said she only f*ck trappers (Trappers)
End up f*ckin' with a rapper (For real?)
Damn, b*tch, how you go backwards? (Damn)
Diamonds on froze like Alaska (Freezin')
That ain't even none of my business (Business)
Put your face down and your ass up (Face down)
I ain't preachin' to you like the pastor
I'ma keep runnin' these bands up, yeah
[Interlude: Gucci Mane & Meek Mill]
Bands up, bands up, bands up, bands up
Bands up, bands up, bands up, bands up
All these diamonds on me make me handsome
Shawty f*ckin' on me like a dancer
Bands up, bands up, bands up, bands up
Bands up, bands up, bands up, bands up
Went from a trapper to rapper
Damn, b*tch, how you go backwards? (Hah)

[Outro: Gucci Mane]
Wow, I thought I was proud of you, but I take it back
You went out sad
Where your whips at? Where your titles at? Huh?
Where your shooters at?
Thought you had a plug, but you had a scrub
Damn