Pyrex Pot - Gucci Mane

Half a brick in a pyrex pot

Trying to make me a dope boy knot

Two pounds and I’m like real big

Stacking double see the nigga so big

I got to get it, got to get it, got to run my money up

Got to get it, got to get it, got to run my money up

Uh!

I’m going on a Trap-A-Thon

Gucci Mane like Gotti I’m the Dapper Don

Uh!

Hundred G’s in my Gucci bag

So if you look at me wrong I’ma do yo' ass

Uh, Gucci Mane, I’m the bread and butter

Run trap, sell crack, nigga spread your hustle

Uh, pockets fatter than Oprah Winfrey

Gucci Mane I’m the baller of the fucking century

Uh, iced out like Babe an' them

I can sell mo' records than Shade an' them

Uh, Gucci Mane you’re a cocky fella

I make it rain so you better get you umbrella

Uh, and my watch is on another level

Clusters of diamonds and they bunched together

Uh, why you talking so much shit?

Yo bitch, cause I’m so rich

Okay somethin white like Michael Jackson

Bust the shit out the rubber then I start to trappin

Gucci Mane got the lone ticket

Run stack for the midget nigga fuck with me, uh

Shawty say he short a couple stacks

The diamond chain on my neck is doing jumping jacks, uh

Yo' money short like Spud Webb

Bend down nigga broke nigga need help, uh

My money talking like Dikembe

Gucci Mane I make a Friday out of Wednesday, uh

Mo dough than CVS

Still making moves, thuggin with S-Y-S, uh

All my shows better be whippin up

J’s keep the ash scrubs when we pick it up, uh

And me and Cad in a Hum-Vee

Yellow diamonds got me lookin like a bumblebee, uh

Gucci got a plug, for the square face

Got them quarter ki’s, I call 'em chicken wangs

Got the gangster peas, I call 'em collard greens

We got them ex pills, we call 'em skitters mayne

Gucci on the grind, catch me at the spot

Got some cocaine jumping out the damn pot

Get some cool water, it’s too damn hot

All I want for Christmas is the dopeman knot

Hustle harder, be smarter

We gonna eat when I bring it out the water

36 O’s, for the 17

Five for the drive, 17−5