Why You Mad
Mister Hood
Well alright
Now little nigga I'm big shit
Big whips on two six
Fault niggas, I don't deal with them
Them real niggas going to feel this
Fuck niggas that talk a lot
Fuck niggas that talking back
Other niggas that ain't around
But they quick to jump on your jock
See Carter niggas I chill with
Known for toting them big clips
Run your mouth, you're too long around
These niggas hitting that kill switch
See money what I been about
Fuck bitches, no handouts
Do this shit with my pen down
Guarantee that I tear down
See that's all that they get from me
Bubble gum in this bag of lean
Bouncing up on that trampoline
Riding off in that tangerine
About the cost of my pinky ring
Feet draped in that Louis V.
Duffle bag when I'm over seas
Get a flick when you see a G
Nigga diamonds all on my neck and wrist
Fuck a nigga that's hating me
Hottest nigga you know about it
Never needed no gasoline
Nigga fly, nigga I been this
Swag off the hinges
Don't believe my word of mouth
Just go and ask them bitches
Now why you mad?
I'm getting bands
I got a chauffeur homie, you in the van
I hear them hating holmes, I understand
Now watch me ball, stay in the stands
Now why you mad?
Why you mad?
Why you mad?
Why you mad?
Now why you mad?
Why you mad?
They say I'm arrogant
That's why you mad?
They hostile like a little child
They fragile, I'm agile
I'm too cold, let me tell you something
Nigga stop all because I'm iced out
Hold up, Chris find this
Your highness, I'm shining
Got a gold touch like Midas
My rock be the tightest
You want to bite me
Probably want to fight me
I woke up in an igloo
I'm always be icy
Strapped up like Birdman, and Lil Wayne, and Mack Maine
I'm Gucci Mane, I'm off the chain
I have no go license
Cigarette in my Lambo'
Man in my Ferrari
Call it Fast and Furious
They furious, I'm sorry
Curious, she choosing
Looking at my pockets
Mine full of them hundreds
Baby it's no problem
It's Gucci
Well alright
Now little nigga I'm big shit
Big whips on two six
Fault niggas, I don't deal with them
Them real niggas going to feel this
Fuck niggas that talk a lot
Fuck niggas that talking back
Other niggas that ain't around
But they quick to jump on your jock
See Carter niggas I chill with
Known for toting them big clips
Run your mouth, you're too long around
These niggas hitting that kill switch
See money what I been about
Fuck bitches, no handouts
Do this shit with my pen down
Guarantee that I tear down
See that's all that they get from me
Bubble gum in this bag of lean
Bouncing up on that trampoline
Riding off in that tangerine
About the cost of my pinky ring
Feet draped in that Louis V.
Duffle bag when I'm over seas
Get a flick when you see a G
Nigga diamonds all on my neck and wrist
Fuck a nigga that's hating me
Hottest nigga you know about it
Never needed no gasoline
Nigga fly, nigga I been this
Swag off the hinges
Don't believe my word of mouth
Just go and ask them bitches
Now why you mad?
I'm getting bands
I got a chauffeur homie, you in the van
I hear them hating holmes, I understand
Now watch me ball, stay in the stands
Now why you mad?
Why you mad?
Why you mad?
Why you mad?
Now why you mad?
Why you mad?
They say I'm arrogant
That's why you mad?
They hostile like a little child
They fragile, I'm agile
I'm too cold, let me tell you something
Nigga stop all because I'm iced out
Hold up, Chris find this
Your highness, I'm shining
Got a gold touch like Midas
My rock be the tightest
You want to bite me
Probably want to fight me
I woke up in an igloo
I'm always be icy
Strapped up like Birdman, and Lil Wayne, and Mack Maine
I'm Gucci Mane, I'm off the chain
I have no go license
Cigarette in my Lambo'
Man in my Ferrari
Call it Fast and Furious
They furious, I'm sorry
Curious, she choosing
Looking at my pockets
Mine full of them hundreds
Baby it's no problem
It's Gucci
Credits
Writer(s): Latifa Brown, Conroy Forte, Grace Hamilton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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