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Gutta (feat. Trick Daddy)

(It's so incredible)Ace[Chorus]

You ain't coming round here talking all that shit

Talking bout you get all them bricks

I'm a have to come round your way

Nigga I'm real you all too fake

And a pistol where ya mamma stay

Act like I don't know where you lay

Betta act right for I get uptight

Act up I'm a let the automatic spray[Repeat: x2]

(Get 'em) boy there ya go

(Get 'em) boy there ya go

Blocka Blocka Blocka Blocka

Boy there you goHol' up with it, Khaled don't let me get em

Gun cocked, where his cheering?

No talk, time to get him

Fake niggas gon' make me kill him

Make his body shiver like he naked in a river

Matter fact I'm a leave him in the river

Come and get him when it's winter

Nigga holla back

I'm gutta. I done told ya that

Rock boy bitch over bags

Say you moving them slabs of crack

See nigga you a lie like Pac is back

Man you niggas all crap

And you homies won't last

Til your something like paper tags

Don't make me slide the mask

To save from blast

Get his ass[Chorus]Now let me get em

When I walk up in the place

Put the pace in ya face

Tell em gimme that K

Fuck niggas and they really don't think

That I know where they lay duct tape they face

Pop pop, unload that K

Then we leave em and we find em in a couple of days

Pussy niggas know where you lay

Acting like I don't know where you stay

Running at ya mouth man ya niggas too fake

Telling all the niggas that you move them things

What?

Y'ain't bout that lie

Huh?

Y'ain't got no stride

Naww

You'nt really grind

Leave em in da streets til the D boys find em

Dumb niggas and they huggin on the grind

In the middle of this town

We gon' G-G-Get em[Chorus]Now who am I? motherfuckers wanna know

When I pull up in that rover

They know that it's over

Big holes in ya body like coasters

Creep Creep we deep with soldiers

Black holster to carry that toaster

Hot head now they calling me Folgers

But still creep in Adidas with the heaters, millimeters

Wanna see where yo family at

Pop pop just call me ace

Slump niggas I'm a call you dead

Click clack now ya T-shirt red

Hand em an tampon

No batteries included know that the clip be hands on

It'll take yo mans on

Leave his body slumped in the damn yard

(Get em)[Chorus]

Songwriters

JACKSON, PETER JR./JACKSON, GERALD/MCCOLISTER, ANTOINE/LONG, BUDDY YOSHIKIPublished by

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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