Lyrics Gucci Mane – Brick Phone
Text:
There’s only one thing I know certain
That’s that I’ma get my clique on
I’m in the kitchen gettin’ my wrist on
Don’t call your bitch, I bet your bitch gone
In twenty minutes thirty bricks gone
All my prepaid, so yeah my brick phone
Designer drugs, I got your bitch on
Icewear Vezzo:
Panamera cost eighty grand
Born in the 80s, I’m the 80s man
Yellow rollie cost another forty
Sit it on the table, that’s a table dance
Fuck the talkin’, I just want the acky
I’m the drank God, bitch say «amen»
I be countin’ chicken that’s two hundred strong
Bitch I’m everything that I say I am
Meet me and Wap, yeah we trap for real
On the block, and the trap for real
Zone 6 to the 6, nigga
Five rights, I’ma crack a seal
These niggas, I don’t crack a smile
You don’t know my hood, niggas jack to live
Got more screw than your rapper deal
I just stack my ends off of crackin’ pills
There’s only one thing I know certain
That’s that I’ma get my clique on
I’m in the kitchen gettin’ my wrist on
Don’t call your bitch, I bet your bitch gone
See this spot here just serve one purpose
All my prepaid, so yeah my brick phone
Designer drugs, I got your bitch on
Lil Flash:
G-Got three iPhones and two flip phones
That’s what I like to flip on
I flip it like a gymnast
Lil’ bitch your bricks is what you sit on
I-I know one thing that’s for certain
If you look wrong, I’ma blow ya
That’s me and yo bitch, and that molly and some coca
Off a Xan bar I might fall over and doze off
Bricks in the trunk, can’t see no road block
She don’t want exotic drugs while I’m on my brick phone
Blowing gas like Citgo while balling just like Jim Jones
On that bubble flow, got Timbs on
Now I can not tip-toe
I slice you just like Kimbo
I taste Xans just like mentos
Ten-four, police comin’, I jump out that window
Out back is the Limo, if you scoot we shoot your dimple
You wanna P.T. from me, but all the bricks on
This brick phone gon’ have your wrist phone
There’s only one thing I know certain
That’s that I’ma get my clique on
I’m in the kitchen gettin’ my wrist on
Don’t call your bitch, I bet your bitch gone
See this spot here just serve one purpose
In twenty minutes thirty bricks gone
All my prepaid, so yeah my brick phone
Designer drugs, I got your bitch on
