Letra Talking to the streets Gucci Mane

Talking to the streets

Mike Willy, Zaydiggy
It's Gucci
Brrr
Go

I get so much cash in Vegas, I feel like I'm Elvis
I just bought a new Ferrari, it came with a helmet
Drip my bitch in Ferragamo, you can't even spell it
I [?] from you if you couldn't sell it
Well connected and respected, how you didn't expect it?
Zay pulled up in the front, new Hummer, it's electric
These niggas going PC but Big Wop don't need protection
They keep talkin' 'bout the old Wop, well here, this the resurrection
The old one known for sipping lean and freestyling congested
Tried put that pistol on my buddy, it got me arrested
These rappers gettin' extorted and it's really gettin' depressing
We know you [?] witness, damn we all read your confession
I do it so big, I spent two million on a wedding
I don't fuck with panhandling and bitches that be begging
I hate going to court, I see the judge and get to sweating
He tried to get away, he couldn't escape, he broke his pelvis

Ain't shit nobody can tell me
"Critter, why you getting selfish?"
I'm up now, ho, you helpless
Dripping in [?] you smell me
I do a walkthrough [?] my trench
Ain't wasting my breath, ho ain't worth a cent
And this shit personal, make sure we hit
Spend [?] switch
He open his mouth [?] stick
These niggas rat to the police, bitch
I'm in a scat, [?] that bitch
Supposed to chase the racks but they chasing a bitch
My cousin [?] he deliver the shit
Ho, my main focus is money
Ayy, I want these millions to come in abundance
I run to the money, I'm Mac Crit [?]
Good pussy, get in her stomach
It's hard for niggas to keep it a hundred
It'll hurt a nigga head to keep it a hundred
Your family'll cross you for money, niggas'll cross you for nothing
When a ho cross you she gon' want something
I gotta thank God [?]
I gotta thank God I made it out the dungeon
[?]
My ho pretty and dark, the other one [?]
And the red Dominican, she love the Hennessey
I love the energy, money boost my energy
Killing my enemy and loving my frenemies
Enemies killing me, they [?]
[?] ho, you can't handle me
I got rose gold trophy, the street keep my focused
The beef ain't over, ain't that what they were hoping
[?]
Fake ass diamonds you got on bogus
Ayy, look at my pocket, that motherfucker loaded
We [?]
Know I'm meant for having [?]
This 1017 mafia, boy, get your choppers up
Fuck the feds, they ain't stopping us
They tryna boss me up, won't let 'em lock me up
I got my [?] want me to help her
[?] accept her
I put on Prada, put my ho on Prada
Prada my glasses but they look like goggles
Girl, you in college and you a show stopper
She go to school for nursing but think she a model
Pull out the blue hundreds [?]
I'm the king [?] just stop it