Guilty - Gucci Mane, DJ Holiday, Young Buck

If being filthy rich is a crime

I guess I’m guilty bitch

I guess I’m guilty bitch

I killed the rap and last night

I pleaded self-defense

I guess I’m guilty bitch

I guess I’m guilty bitch

These suckas talking nonsense

I killed your homeboy

Cause I don’t have a conscience

I’m strapped like Bronson

Brick Squad, Trap House, beat bunking

I’m wild like Tarzan

I’m swinging through the Zone 6

In Ferraris.

It’s on again

I go to win, strap-for-strap

I go rap for rap, I rep the trap

Refuse the death but game to slap

My phone is tapped

I’m off the wall and off the scale

Came out of jail like

A bat out of hell

I refuse to pay up, gotta salute the myth

Got Clientele, I might as well

I’m moving weight from state-to-state

I gots to get my aconchelet (?)

I know the feds be watching me

But there ain’t no way they stopping me

Drop a pack off to my lawyer

Take these charges, overturn em

Roll the kush in my trial papers

And burn em — I’m not going

The fork in it and my Glock showing

If it don’t shine then it’s not glowing

Ain’t mine if it’s not foreign

Broke ho — bitch you not knowing!

They was rap touring I was behind the bus

With packs for em

Didn’t plan on digging this up

But I need a shovel

Good looking, Gucci got me back

I’m trying to buy another

Pounds of mid and my college bitch’s

House neighbors complaining about the smell

They got her kicked out

They popping down to the last pill

In Cashville

I’m getting it fast still, on the real

I feel it