I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda i’m Gudda, Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle i’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda i’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
Got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle
Gudda, pocket full of paper
Back on my garage and try to
Do something to my neighbors
Pour duce up to the big race
Money got me with a big hand
I’m too good, I’m for life
Until I’m laying in a ditch day
Pistol in my jeans
Don’t make me point it at your big head
Most you niggas is bitch made
My guns look like in 5th grade
I guess to it, I just do it
Last track and I just abused it
20-20 vision, I see money and I get to it
20 care in my livers
Imma blow it all at the dice game
Can’t take it with me when I die
That’s why I’m just living my life, man
Wood grain on my steering wheel
Pinky ring on my right hand
Twenty thou’ my closet and my
Pistol on my night stand, i’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda i’m Gudda, Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle i’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda i’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
Got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle
To the streets I’m on my Gudda shit
With my brother Gudda, we on that Gudda shit
Two two’s on me, don’t make me aim ‘em at you
Rear flaming flat
You’re just a flaming faggot
My money enough, I don’t do some tracking
No moving scrap bitch
But I’m about that action
Rare Bentley, rare chucks, got the
Redneck cops on my head, fuck
I did jail and I ain’t trying go back
Gave my lawyer ten racks and told a whole lie
East side, that’s where we rap
So don’t make me introduce you to
The bottom of the tag bitch, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda i’m Gudda, Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle i’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda i’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
Got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle
Okay, I’m Gudda like the balling and
The east side is my turf
Air hoes in the tacket
Make you whistle like a nerf
I come straight out my own room
Pronounce the real nigga at birth
Got my riffle in this rap shit and
My left foot on a turf
So Imma mix them both together and Imma
Play it for what is worth
Hoping for the best
But I prepare for the worst
Mama told me "don’t be scared
So if you’re scared, go to church"
Put the money on your head
And prepare for rehearse
We pull a lie from the bottom of the gutter
Niggas think they’re fly while I
Fly in a chopper
Man, I’m laughing at you suckers for
The lies that you otter
Imma let these niggas know one
More time that I’m Gudda bitch, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, GuddaI’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle i’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda i’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
Got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle