15th and the 1st - Gucci Mane, Waka Flocka Flame

Uhh, uhh

Ayy Guc' Mane, we good right now man

Get money good man

It’s a white girl in town — name is Cocaine

It’s some dirty birds in town — Gucci Mane &Waka Flame

We fly in, on buy-in, say you got more birds?

You lyin

You tryin and lyin, you boys ain’t supplyin

I pitch like Nolan Ryan, got cocallina flyin

My partners stick up kids, duct tape rope they gon' tie in

In the bushes they lyed in all night that’s my word

By the end of the mornin they left with them birds

And I’m gone off that purp', and I’m slurrin my words

I swerved in my Benz, bangin my 4G's on the curb

The lean, the herb, pay me like the first

You cross Brick Squad, get hurt

I got work — Gucci

My homeboys will get you, pay you on the 33rd

Two pints of lean’ll have me slurrin on my words

Undertaker car, triple black drop bird

Stomach full of money, so hundreds I’ma burp

All the hoods love us like the 15th and the 1st

Two pints of lean’ll have me slurrin on my words

Undertaker car, triple black drop bird

Stomach full of money, so hundreds I’ma burp

All the hoods love us like the 15th and the 1st

Five grand for a head shot

Boy don’t be no Flintstone and get yo' (Bedrocked), nigga!

Triple red drop, offsets through the parkin lot

Where I’m from, young niggaz shootin at the cops

Where I’m from, they fakin

My hood right side, nigga, green flaggin

Lay yo' ass down if you do too much braggin

Three case, four Glocks, nigga that’s swaggin, ughh

Penalized, then goes the Packer-Man

What’cha hell, you would think it was a cracker-man

I don’t know 'em bah-bah-bah-bah-back'em man

Fuck 'em den!

Throw my stash in the club that there’ll do

Every girl gettin past you

Send an ambulance on that ass I want that rent due

Robbin every nigga that ain’t Hit Squad, Blood or Piru

FLOCKA!

Half a million dollar jewelry like «Fuck that bird!»

Niggaz screamin they want beef, I’m like (Roger That)!

My album didn’t sell, so I’m layin niggaz down

Shootin every nigga, that burst leaves a fuckin frown

Forty carats on my bracelet, my Polo black

Niggaz talkin like they want beef, I’m wantin that

Seven grams in the Swisher, I’m gon' solo that

Ridin around with my strap like «Where they at?»

All these rap niggaz hold up, stole my Philly hat

You will never be a legend like the Gucci Mane

You will never be turnt up like my partner Flock'

You niggaz hoes I run your block when them choppers chop