Gucci Mane – Backwards Lyrics

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[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, oh, the Gucci (Wop)
(Hah, 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
Nigga don’t gas me, I don’t need a fill up
Pick her up and make her suck my dick ’til she hiccup
Wop lookin’ slim like a bicycle rim
But he’s bank obese, and his 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 (It’s sold)
Own our own kush, damn the room so musty
Most of you rappers all style, no substance
Big ol’ rocks on, they disgustin’
Niggas talk but never touch me (Nah)
Broke haters can’t tell me nothin’

[Verse 2: Meek Mill]
Fuck ’em (Woo, woo, woo, who?)
Yeah, this that Meek Mill, Gucci Mane (Gucci Mane)
Y’all niggas swingin’ through F&Ns
They gon’ come right back to you like a boomerang (Brrr)
Louis and Saint Laurent drip (Drip)
Pimp on these bitches like Pootie Tang (Pimpin’)
He wanna be ’bout that bitch
But we all fuckin’ her, so he don’t know who to blame
She wanna check from me, uh (Check)
She gotta check for me, uh (Check)
Fuckin’ the two baddest bitches off Instagram, they on that ecstasy (Aw, hey)
Hey, diamonds like Voss, and I got the sauce, I mix up the recipe (Woah)
‘Fore all this rappin’ shit, I was a trapper, the plug gon’ invest in me (Woah)
Jumped out the porch, I got a Porsche
Too many hitters, they can’t extort
I take a mil’ to 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 niggas no more
I can’t even be with these niggas no more
Shorty said she only fuck trappers (Trappers)
End up fuckin’ with a rapper (For real?)
Damn, bitch, how you goin’ backwards? (Damn)
Diamonds on froze like Alaska (Freezin’)
That ain’t even none of my bidness (Bidness)
Put your face down and your ass up (Back down)
I am preachin’ to you like the pastor
I’ma keep runnin’ these bands up (Yeah)

[Bridge: 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 fuckin’ 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, bitch, how you goin’ backwards? (Hah)

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

Joey Bada$$ – King To A God (feat. Dessy Hinds)

[Verse 1: Joey Bada$$]
Hol’ up, uh, back on my bullshit, I’m packin’ a full clip
I’m triggered, bitch, get back ‘fore I pull it and let it rip, uh (woo!)
Hit you off from the hip-up, my Glock, it don’t hiccup
You better get a grip and don’t slip up (yeah!) (ah!)
Now put your hands where my eyes can see
Like it’s a stick up (yeah!)
Make one false move, you gettin’ lit up (brr!)
‘Cause I don’t give a fuck like Bishop (no!)
I’m crazy like a redneck in a pickup (c’mon!)
Shit get ugly like Chauncey Billups (word!)
Hol’ up, lemme fill up my cup with some fine wine
Your bitch wanna fuck, all I gotta do is find time
Said I just really want that Einstein (yeah!)
But fuck it, watch her throw it back
Like a Thursday on my timeline (woo!)
Swear I’m so out of my mind (word!)
The only one of my kind (c’mon!)
Between me and you is a fine-line
I sell rhymes like dimes and leave MFs doomed (doomed!)
Since my first tunes, I’ve been raisin’ hell from the tombs (tombs!)
Look, I’m gettin’ hotter every June (yeah!)
You say you with the smoke?
Well, I’m with the heavy fumes (c’mon!)
You got goons, I got goons (yeah!)
Everybody got goons, question is: Do you got the Cojóns?
You niggas coons that really need to stop the buffoonery
‘Fore I take it back on them start
Snatchin’ they jewelry (gimme that!)
You niggas talk tough but that shit don’t be foolin’ me (no!)
Fuck around and this verse gon’ be in your eulogy
This the type the of shit I do usually (ha!)
I move indubitably
And put these words together so beautifully (c’mon!)
While I beat the beat up so brutally (uh huh!)
Like cops in my community abusin’ diplomatic immunity (psh!)
Said I’m soon to be the greatest in your top five (yeah!)
‘Cause when I drop watch the rest drop just like flies (yeah!)
They be shook when a nigga like me on the rise (yeah!)
‘Cause I ain’t afraid to look a lyin’ king up in his eyes, nigga, what‽

[Chorus: Joey Bada$$]
But what’s a king to a God? Uh
Feelin’ like the realest motherfucker alive, uh
Kill a nigga ‘fore I let him push me aside
‘Cause, bitch, I’m tryna break even, even over the odds, nigga
Huh, but what’s a king to a God? Uh
Feelin’ like the realest motherfucker alive, uh
Kill a nigga ‘fore I let him push me aside
‘Cause, bitch, I’m tryna break even, even over the odds, nigga

[Bridge: Joey Bada$$]
Ha ha! Let that shit breathe, hol’ up, let that shit breathe, ha ha!
Yeah, ill-minded child, let’s get ’em

[Verse 2: Dessy Hinds]
How many pieces, I’m eatin’ forbidden fresh fruit (mm!)
16 pieces, the sweetest, I feast on flesh too (c’mon!)
Verses bulletproof on the chessboard, pick your best move (c’mon!)
I already made mine, where’s the next loop? (Loop?)
A hundred plus miles, I’m turnin’ frowns upside down
Usin’ every tool to close these tombs
Like King Tut right now (uh huh!)
I’m cuttin’ ties, then cufflinks might bounce (uh huh!)
Until the ground, feel the urgency to bury me
Or worry my spouse (woo!)
All this sleepin’ I’m wide aroused
I’m right around fine chinas in Chinatown
Fine dinin’ with lighter sounds
That’s for the spliff, nobody make a sound
I came to wipe these babies down
With nothin’ less than Egyptian cotton for towels (woo!)
That’s for cotton pickin’ no doubt (doubt!)
This lil’ nigga just turned big nigga, you now
Are tuned in to the era where we better than who’s around
Fuck cheddar give up the pounds (uh huh!)
I told y’all niggas once and only now (right!)
I think I’m going psycho for the sound
Only psychos I see around
Go ’round and ’round like a new carousel (ah ha!)
What’s a king to a God?
The difference is one of them don’t compare themselves
I’m only here to make a name plus generational wealth (woo!)
No kiddin’, New York state of mind, I guess it was written
I’m out in Queens after I handle my business (uh huh!)
I’m too ambitious, and I been flippin’ physics
Way before I met critics
So whatchu saying to the dead or the livin’?
God Body, yeah (ha ha!)

[Chorus: Dessy Hinds]
But what’s a king to a God?
Feelin’ like the realest motherfucker alive, uh
Kill a nigga ‘fore I let him push me aside
‘Cause, bitch, I’m tryna break even, even over the odds, nigga
Yeah, but what’s a king to a God?
Feelin’ like the realest motherfucker alive, uh
Kill a nigga ‘fore I let him push me aside
‘Cause, bitch, I’m tryna break even, even over the odds, nigga

[Outro: Joey Bada$$]
What’s a king to a God?
Feelin’ like the realest motherfucker alive, uh
Kill a nigga ‘fore I let him push me aside
‘Cause, bitch, I’m tryna break even, even over the odds, nigga