Gudda Gudda
Gudda Gudda - Inside Looking Out songtekst
Je score:
I'm on the inside looking out At a world that's full of doubt Very underrated, I'm the down south champion But they sleepin' on me like they took a bunch of ampion So I'mma go hard, got bars like brikers Young money bitch, it ain't a squad, nothing like us You ain't gotta listen to us, you ain't gotta like us But you gon respect the team or be ridin' like bikers Numbers don't rhyme but you lame rappers do Talkin' 'bout a bunch of shit you never did and won't do Got the game in the chokehold, it won't let loose If you look pass the lies you could see that I'm the truth Young j to the gutter like the top of your roof Summer time, I just let the top drop on the coupe Getting money, ain't nothing wrong with that But these hate ass niggas lookin' like it's wrong, in fact They just mad at the world cuz they broke and whack In fact they probly just mad cuz they broke and wham It's all good homie, yea, get your shot one day And I'mma make a hundred grand by sunday Nigga what? I ain't give a fuck I ain't a wishing well nigga, don't try your luck But I'mma wish you well and the best for your luck But remember nigga, I'm the big dog, you a pup It's gutta time 2, the hood gave me that name Still shaking dice, 20.000 at the crab game Still got some homies in the street in the crack game And I promised I would give them jobs in the web game Real nigga shit, that's real nigga spittin' Real niggas do real shit, that's how I'm livin' Nigga gifted with the whips, that's a motherfuckin' giveth Goddamn, good riddens, I'mma punish all these niggas I'm I'll with the rittens, my pin gon make me millions I don't write what I'm thinkin', I'm just writin' what I'm feelin' I'm high like the ceiling, styrophoam cup fill it to the rim I'm sippin' on the purp, well nigga you can keep the gin And losin's not an option nigga, all I do is win I'm a god fearin' man, hit my knees when I sin Hot puck, dust my jeans off and go get it in Wake up the next morning to do the same shit again Yea, back to the money, this young nigga hungry Countin' paper til my hands hurt Nigga, young money bitch I'm on the inside looking out At a world that's full of doubt