Trap God - Gucci Mane

I’m just havin' fun, my old flow was from Michigan

My life a lavish one, I touch down cold like Michigan

Brush you off, switch the gun, my jits went on a blickathon

We havin' navy guns, my trap look like the Pentagon (Wop)

Trap look like a Dixie Queen, can’t talk if you ain’t give fifteen

I’m so icy, 1017, I’m fresh just like some listerine

This chain right here a fifty piece, the pendant too, this fifty each

These niggas can’t even sit with me, these bitches wanna get with me

Exotic 'bow a four-for-four, you get thirteen, you get three more

You play with us, we up the score, I should’ve been on Traphouse 4

Bitch, I’m the shit just like commode, look at this drip all on my clothes

Look at this shit stick to the bowl, I’m 'bout to break my wrist for sure, hey

Trap look like it’s jumpin', I just ran up on a junkie (I did)

I can’t serve no onions, you ain’t pull up with no money

This shake cost fifteen hundred, I finessed for thirteen-twenty

They say bigger the wrist, bigger the lick, go get some money, hey (BigWalkDog)

(Honorable C.N.O.T.E.)