Gucci Mane — Informant

[Hook] I sit around in the with my young niggas Sellin' narcotics Boys in the hood, wanna see a dead body? Fuck 12, cause a nigga got a 12-gauge shotty And I heard Vicky boy just shot somebody Rude boy, tote a [?] with the bumbaclot Rasclat better run, cause Im lookin sharp Head shot, pop pop pop pop pop to your dreadlock And I drop the informant who talk to the damn cops [Verse 1] I'm a soldier on the battlefield I murk your ass for real Got a young nigga who love to kill More bodies than a Navy Seal These young boys ain't got nothin' to do But somethin' to prove and somethin' to shoot Kill you on you birthday Take you cake, and fuck your lady too Shoot you in your dreads Now, have a Rastafarian funeral "[?] is a traitor" she said to his [?] Hundred wawa's, all with woppers Ain't no fucking breathing room 18 karat golden choppa my hollow tip got diamonds (burr) Extended clip I dipped my clip in rose gold, so it match my jewelry, fool "Gucci Mane got stupid money, but that boy ain't lyrical" I'm Eazy-E, reincarnated, but without the Jheri curl (R.I.P.) Without the Dre Beats on my ear And ice cubes on my baby girl [Hook] [Verse 2] Here's you a little tip Gucci Mane a miracle Call me anything but lyrical The shit gonna get physical [?] on your bitch ass I fucked her in the living room She tried to get you to rob the wop now the bitch in critical Short, fine Big butt, with a fat purse [?] nine, show time Make that gat burst I don't mind But, don't touch it 'till you ask first My new chick She'll eat a dick like a bratwurst [?] I sip the lean Pancake, Mrs. Butterworth 100K on three whips, that's a T-rex 100 pounds, I didn't pay I got a weed debt [Hook]