Testi Long Money - Gucci Mane

Long Money

Jacuzzi on the roof\nUgly hoes don’t get the time of day\nChiefing on sativa\nSmell the reefer from a mile away\nPistol in my coupe\nTry my troops\nYou’ll get blown away\nGucci Mane got long money\nBitch that’s all I got to say\nGucci mane got long money\nThat’s what them bitches say\nGucci mane got long money\nThat’s what them bitches say\nGucci mane got long money\nThat’s what them bitches say\nI ain’t even gotta talk\nMy money conversate\nWe been stunting\nGot a money tree\nI drown the bitch with money\nFerrari with\nThem bumble-bee\nForgiato sitting up under it\n(«How many carats in that bracelet baby?»)\nI think about 200\nPlus I hit the club with 50k\nLet’s keep this shit 100\nGot a couple houses\nGhetto spouses\nIn my penthouse\nSmoking ounces\nCame up selling ki’s and ounces\nHalf a pound\nWhite, Gold, and Brown\nMy pants sag\nGrams wear 'em down\nThese kats are trying to go downtown\nJust to walk around and window shop\nI shut them all down everytime\nEverytime that I hit the scene\nFresher than I wanna be\nCover of the magazine\nBack of the limousine\nStacks in my denim jeans\nHoes gone remember me\n458 ship to me from Italy\n612 sitting outside the facilities\n911 Gucci ice game killing me\nCame a long way from drug dealing\nWaking up rich is a great feeling\nCouple million stashed for my grandchildren\nJust hand counted me a coupe half million\nUp on 'em\nPull up on 'em\nLike a bird drop low\nAnd shit on 'em\nPiss on 'em\nSpit on 'em\nTell them haters Gucci got rich on 'em\nIt’s GUCCI!\nEvery city\nI make magic\nI make money disappear\nCause they attracted me\nHow clear these diamonds\nBlinging in my ear\nSo many wanna marry me\nI’m married to the game\nCocaine put me in position\nSwagger brought me all the fame\nI need accountants to help me count it\nRolls-Royce I mount it\nCorvette painted candy\nDrop the top\nAnd bitches crowd it\nHouses in Zone 6\nAll my niggas hustlers\nAnd robbers\nDon’t fuck with us\nYou’d be better off\nFucking off with Angel Dust\nI’m racked up\nLike a pool table\nStay draped up\nAnd Purple Label\nDrank purple drank\nSmoke purple weed\nGot a purple car\nAnd long paper\nEvery day thank the Lord that I wake\nEvery day living like my last day\nShine so bright rock stupid ice\nMore carats in my chain than a carrot cake\nMoney short\nHe running out\nI’m bussin' out\nCan’t close the vault\nAin’t my fault\nIt’s yo fault\nNobody stays here\nThis my money’s house\nStash house\nStocked up\nTry to fuck shit\nGet chopped up\nI’m rocked up\nStay blocked up\nI ain’t locked up\nBut I’m guaped up\nIt’s GUCCI!!!