Bring Them Things lyrics by Gucci Mane - original song full text. Official Bring Them Things lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Gucci Mane – Bring Them Things lyrics
[Intro:]
Aye, yeah, boy!
Aye, yeah!
Aye, yeah, boy!
Aye, yeah!

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
How I’m goin’ crazy, crazy? Bitch, I get it
These bitches poppin’ mollies like the hippies in the sixties
Bring your ass to East Atlanta, I don’t do deliveries
I’m chargin’ like I’m Tony Montana, the homes ain’t killin’ no children
Top of Savannah with blue New Balances
And bricks all under the building
Homegirl said I’m the man gettin’ money,
But I ain’t seen a nigga, I missed it
New Lambo and I’m sittin’ real low, slidin’ around without my ceiling
Used to be my hoe, you can have that hoe
My nigga, I ain’t got no feelings
‘Fore I started rappin’ Gucci Mane was sellin’ dope
Her brother wanna meet me but I’m still sayin’ “no”
Call my phone again, I’mma have to tell him “go”
Two-hundred squares, a hundred pairs, what’s your price? Low?

[Hook: Yung Fresh]
Bring them things in – bring them things in
When you come in, make sure you have them dividends
Hope you got a whole bunch of hundreds so I can easily count it
Man, I’m goin’ hard, summertime, dude forge a mountain
How you doin’? I’m goin’ stupid, goin’ dumb, bitch
I’m a Zone 3, nigga, you know I’m on that slum shit
And my nigga from that Six, and he jugglin’ all them bricks
And he fuckin’ with your French, and they know the streets is back

[Verse 3: Chief Keef]
Johnny Dame on my wrist, cost ‘bout a couple bricks
Got Vellanos on my whips, Forgiatos on my whips
Got the 40 on my hip, with ‘bout 50 in the clip
Hit the kitchen, hit the strip – grab some pounds and some zips
If the block sellin’ here, hit your block, let it rip
Give me top in that Six, bitch, my watch very clear
And my pockets very fat, and I stay spendin’ racks
Spend them stacks, get it back, twelve chickens in the back
‘Migos meet me in the front, bitch, this ain’t what I want
Try to play me like a punk, my niggas’ll leave you slumped
‘Migos meet me in the front, bitch, this ain’t what I want
Try to play me like a punk, my niggas’ll leave you slumped

[Hook: Yung Fresh]

[Verse 3: Yung Fresh]
Juugin’ off them millions, on the table, hit the city
Man, we got cameras in the front, receivin’, backin’ in
When you come in, make sure you have them hundreds, then…
We count dividends, only conversatin’ if you spend
Super-charged, straight A, charge it, see it on them rims
Hit you fuckin’ head in, you been a real nigga when
If you wanna buy ten, come and buy thirty-six
Charge ‘em thiry-two nicks, that’s a five for the dry
Benz top circumcised and you know the body wide
Glock 9 on my thigh, hidden right between, I…
Young, fly street nigga, bitch, I’m from New Jack City
Have a temper around women, if you want it, come get it (fresh)

[Hook: Yung Fresh]
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Lyrics taken from /lyrics/g/gucci_mane/bring_them_things.html

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