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[Intro:] Yup! Yup! Gucci Mane in this motherfucker (Gucci Gucci) My nigga Zo' on the track (my nigga Zo') That real shit, that real shit [Chorus: x2] I'm a hood rich nigga, I ain't never had shit I really ain't shit; niggaz talkin 'bout me But they really ain't shit, they ain't said shit It don't make dollars, it don't make cents/sense [Gucci Mane:] I ain't never had shit nigga that's the truth Rich kids in the school used to draw on my shoes Name stayed on the board, fo' checks in chalk In detention cause the teacher say that we can't talk Counselor raggin and my momma got that I just walk I wish I had a nickel for every fight I fought Stealin candy out the sto' like I can't get caught Just a lil' bad black boy, it ain't my fault After school snack syrup and fo' pieces of bread Granddaddy why yo' eyes so God damn red? "Got a real soft ass and a hard-ass head Better mind your fuckin manners boy, " that's what he said Letras de canciones[Chorus] [Gucci Mane:] I moved to East Atlanta at the age of 9 Real cold winter, 1989 My brother good at ball, I can't play no sports They won't let you pack a tool on the b-ball court Cluster Ave, Monty Paul, where my daddy now? Things goin alright, we a family now Got the dopeman Nikes and the Starter coat Only nigga in school with the dopeman rope Pull the joint two times, man I'm high already I like that girl with them braids and them high-top Chevys Got that bump for stick-up, Starter and the big boy chest Tried to take it on the train but I just couldn't let him [Chorus] [Gucci Mane:] 14 gettin drunk at a house party They locked me up, they must have hid a half a ounce on me Momma mad as a mother', daddy let him be Gucci Mane, raised me to be a straight up G Now my daddy hustle hard, but he love sum liquor And my momma wanna leave him but she love the nigga Everything kinda changed when I turned 16 Got the old school Regal with the chrome back rings Like a newborn baby, man that bitch clean But the motor fucked up and the transmission And it's knockin down the street with the 415's In Mackmile parkin lot, stright whipping And I'm Bankhead bouncin, fo' hoes want me Hit the half and give me two dimes for 15 And my mind's on gettin reach by all means In the trap, cause this rap shit was just my dream [Chorus] From Letras Mania