Gucci Coming 4 You Gucci Mane

[Intro]
Go

[Chorus]
One, two, Gucci's coming for you (For you)
Three, four, better lock your door (Better lock your—)
Five, six, he'll take yo' bitch (He'll take yo' shit)
Seven, eight, better stay awake (Better stay up late)
Nine, ten, he's back again (Back again)
Eleven, twelve, he escaped from hell (Huh)
Eleven, twelve, he escaped from hell

[Verse 1]
"Gucci Mane got long money," that's what these bitches say
"And I'ma pay his bond money," that's where my shooter spray (Grrra)
My jit went on the run for me
We ain't related but I feel just like they sons to me (Wow)
'Cause on my birthday every year, they buy two guns for me (Baow)
I did the math, they damn near sold two metric tons for me (Huh?)
Another product of the slum just like me homie
Don't play with me because you know I got a whole army
We in Miami, deep with heat, don't get put on a poster
I keep two shooters on the wing, I feel like Eric Spoelstra
I got the drop, I know where all my opps be playing poker
My section full of rich-ass junkies who hate being sober (Sober)
It's Gucci