Letra de 'The Dollars' de Gvcci Hvcci

Gucci Hucci selling coochie
Never met my father
Call my guy a motherfucker
If he thinks that he can holler
I don't do it for the followers
I do it for the dollars

I do it for the dollars

Gucci Hucci selling coochie
Never met my father
Call my guy a motherfucker
If he thinks that he can holler
I don't do it for the followers
I do it for the dollars

I do it for the dollars

Bend a motherfucker off well
Will kill all of us
Smoke a pit in the porch for the marijuana
And he is a goner
Come on with the guns
When I close my eyes all I see is humpin'
All you see is bright lights
Ski mask, pistol whip a motherfucker
Go to sleep fast
Wake up in Gucci
Can I have my teeth back? (uh)
Hit him in the head again, tell him 'relax' (what?)

Every time I hit them right, that's free crack (okay)
Every time I hit the pole, that's free rent
And I'll drop it super low like a throwback
And I smoke so much, I need a smoke stat

Roll it, spark it, hit it, hold that
So much money on me, I can't even fold that
And I'm shopping where the only place they showin'
And I'm thinking about picking up a guy again
And I'm kicking it with Megan and Ashley
Pop a molly with them all, get nasty
Epiphany in the corner, rollin' up a fat leaf (weed)

Cough seems so damn high I can't sleep (nuh-uh)
And I'm so damn high that I can't speak (ah)
And I'll stay that high all damn week (woo!)
Fantastic, yeah, that's me! (woo!)
Get em hooked like motherfucking toxin (woo!)
So sick that I think they'll need those vaccines (woo!)
And I'm up all night, no caffeine

And the emotional is magic
And the Da Vinci is classic
Wanna touch my ass? But you ain't got cash?
You'll be brushing from that slashing

Gucci Hucci selling coochie
Never met my father
Call my guy a motherfucker
If he thinks that he can holler
I don't do it for the followers
I do it for the dollars

I do it for the dollars
I do it for the dollars

Gucci Hucci selling coochie
Never met my father
Call my guy a motherfucker
If he thinks that he can holler
I don't do it for the followers
I do it for the dollars

I do it for the dollars
I do it for the dollars

Really think she must've died
Choose one, drunk by Mikkeller, run, run
I'm the only one who seems to get the job done
And I'm back from the dead like God's son
And I'm talking bout Brett, raw bits
From the back of the head, point blank
Fill him up with the lead, like bang bang
Gonna sew em like thread, up the dank dank
And I gotta thank Ruger [?] for everything
Come back like an all black bang-a-rang
Call me Cat Woman, no Anne Hathaway
till I compensate em' on that a' way

Then I hop in the cab, that's a getaway
And I did the same shit just yesterday
I'm the boss today, I'll be the boss tomorrow, fuck the rest
Then hit them in the chest with the holo-trip
And I never borrow shit, got the goods, hit up the swish real quick
Then I'll fill it back up with the good shit

Then I might do line off a fat dick
Don't you know I got that motherfucking magic?
Piss and drink is a must, called me, name was blank
He told me all the secrets, I just had to give em breaks
Everybody loves me like they love Raymond
And you know I keep it spice like I'm Cajun

Wet t-shirt covered in Faygo
She gon' juggle all her dates, yeah there ya go
Let me take another sniff of the yayo
Gotta motherfucking mountain on the scale
Street ballin', sipping on the snayo
Pretty boy, got me thinking bout' giving up the tail

Say he got the dough, and then he tried to bail
Cut him up, sent him to his mama in the mail

God forgive me, I got these dark forces in me
Hot like a fireplace
Smoke like a chimney
So many drugs in me that I swear I'm going Whitney
You know I keep a bad bitch, and that fat dick, with me at all times
High score in killing this shit
Bitches was missing me, you know I'm still in this shit
Wanna run up on me, on my tums, so dumb bitch
I put a bullet in they head, make em go down quick

Gucci Hucci selling coochie
Never met my father
Call my guy my motherfucker
If he thinks that he can holler
I don't do it for the followers
I do it for the dollars

I do it for the dollars
I do it for the dollars

Gucci Hucci selling coochie
Never met my father
Call my guy my motherfucker
If he thinks that he can holler
I don't do it for the followers
I do it for the dollars

I do it for the dollars
I do it for the dollars