Lyrics Yung Mal – Gucci Shoes
Text:
Yung Mal:
Gudda Tay on every beat, nigga
Gudda
I’m high as fuck
In the booth right now with my shoes off
Them some Gucci shoes, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci
Get a sack, turn your back on your mans, dawg
That what pussies do, coochie, coochie, coochie, coochie
Got the trap goin’ stupid stupid
Keep that strap, boy I’m super shooter
Get that pack goin’, move it, move it
I get you whacked, boy, cool it, cool it
In the 6 right now with that glizzy on me
Gotta get these racks, watch my back, I lost plenty homies
Way back, I was sleepin’ on the mat, I was eatin’ bologna
Now I’m laid back, in the Maybach, while I’m turnin’ corners
These niggas get the sack, turn they back, niggas turn phony
No, I couldn’t tuck my tail like a cat, went, got a sack, I ain’t let up on ’em
12 hit the block, we threw the set up on ’em
Um, if the dope don’t weigh enough we put some stretch up on it
I ain’t have shit, I flex up on ’em
Do the dash fast, I catch up on ’em
He need a bag, gotta wait one moment
I’m in the ‘yo doin’ a feature for a hundred, damn
In the booth right now with my shoes off
Them some Gucci shoes, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci
Get a sack, turn your back on your mans, dawg
That what pussies do, coochie, coochie, coochie, coochie
Got the trap goin’ stupid stupid
Keep that strap, boy I’m super shooter
I get you whacked, boy, cool it, cool it
In the 6 right now with that glizzy on me
Gotta get these racks, watch my back, I lost plenty homies
Lil Quill:
Gotta get these racks, I lost plenty homies
Hundred stacks, in that Maybach, I lay back
I been runnin’ up that sack, no I ain’t ever goin’ back
Ducked off, askin’ where he at
Big house way out in Marriott
Where the bad bitch that look like Julie at?
But I can’t marry you (Nah)
In the booth right now, I got on double G
My belt a couple hundred, it got bumblebees
Car imported, came from Italy
I heard your man givin’ back shit to the law
Well we shoot first degree
And I got bands in my pants
You try to run off, we gon’ shoot.223’s
Yung Mal:
In the booth right now with my shoes off
Them some Gucci shoes, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci
Get a sack, turn your back on your mans, dawg
That what pussies do, coochie, coochie, coochie, coochie
Got the trap goin’ stupid stupid
Keep that strap, boy I’m super shooter
Get that pack goin’, move it, move it
I get you whacked, boy, cool it, cool it
In the 6 right now with that glizzy on me
Gotta get these racks, watch my back, I lost plenty homies
Outro:
This dope came straight off the boat
