Lyrics Gunna – Top

Went straight to the top like a fitted (top)
Still got some act in the fridge (act)
Pour up let’s count up these riches (pour it pour it)
Still flying bags through the city

I gotta keep going in
Walk in that flame make it storm again
When I see this bitch she pick up a ten
I fucked on her now I wanna fuck her friend
I’m popping that shit from above the rim
My drip with my crew and we love to spend (we love it)
Saint Laurent, Dior, Chanel again
Scrap on that left with a FN
Oh yeah, these Maison Margiela vanilla
G5 we don’t fly propeller (nah)
My coupe filled with paraphernalia (yeah)
My lil’ brother keep a Beretta
Seem like they got a vendetta (yeah)
Pull up with with them sticks in the shuttle
Put my momma in that new Gucci sweater
They hate to see I’m doing better

Went straight to the top like a fitted (top)
Still got some act in the fridge (act)
Pour up let’s count up these riches (pour it pour it)
Still flying bags through the city
I told you that foreign wasn’t rented
I can’t fuck on no boring bitches (no boring bitches)
Young Gunna was born to get it

Tell my lil’ bro don’t panic
Everyday we gone ride with that static
Them big blue faces I gotta have it
I got carrots but I don’t see no rabbit
I fucked that lil pussy and vanished
She say that Young Gunna a savage
Still had racks when I walked outta Magic
Hit that nat then I pulled in the palace
Yea the South turned the kid to a legend (I swear)
And I can’t forget it (nah)
Rags to riches
Put that shit on in Givenchy
I shot it the last minute (last)
What you thought a nigga wasn’t with it?
I parallel park hop out dripping
Got drank in my cup I keep sipping
And my fire gon’ come with extension

Went straight to the top like a fitted (top)
Still got some act in the fridge (act)
Pour up let’s count up these riches (pour it pour it)
Still flying bags through the city
I told you that foreign wasn’t rented
I can’t fuck on no boring bitches (no boring bitches)
Young Gunna was born to get it