
Hold Dat Thought Gucci Mane
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Hold Dat Thought" by Gucci Mane. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.

[Intro]
Zaytoven on the track
Zay-tiggy! Gucci, Gucci
So Icy Entertainment
Let's go
[Chorus]
They call me Chef Boy RG, but hold that thought
It's a Kodak moment, how I hold that fork
Got a hurricane wrist game tornado turns dog
Pockets Piggly Wiggly, caine Kermit the Frog dawg
They call me Chef Boy RG, but hold that thought
It's a Kodak moment, how I hold that fork
Got a hurricane wrist game tornado turns dog
Pockets Piggly Wiggly, caine Kermit the Frog dawg
[Verse 1]
Early in the mornin, I ain't even yawnin
Cookin up a cake, like I'm doin a performance
When it come to flossin, I ain't even talkin
Diamonds on my donk, got my Chevy moonwalkin
Ten bricks on my Bart Simpson, just look
My watch, thirty-five pounds of kush
My ring, thirty-six O's my nig'
My bracelet, five hundred pounds of mid'
A Gucci wrapped tour bus, y'all hoes follow us
Party pack of pills man, hoes gonna swallow us
Naturally a loner, but love my kid
Mix the soda with the cola, I can buy me a friend
New swag somethin like Trap House times 10
E'ry nig' around me bust heads, YA DIG?~!
Iced out grill, I can't buy that bullshit
I'm with some street shit, like the reverend in the pulpit
Zaytoven on the track
Zay-tiggy! Gucci, Gucci
So Icy Entertainment
Let's go
[Chorus]
They call me Chef Boy RG, but hold that thought
It's a Kodak moment, how I hold that fork
Got a hurricane wrist game tornado turns dog
Pockets Piggly Wiggly, caine Kermit the Frog dawg
They call me Chef Boy RG, but hold that thought
It's a Kodak moment, how I hold that fork
Got a hurricane wrist game tornado turns dog
Pockets Piggly Wiggly, caine Kermit the Frog dawg
[Verse 1]
Early in the mornin, I ain't even yawnin
Cookin up a cake, like I'm doin a performance
When it come to flossin, I ain't even talkin
Diamonds on my donk, got my Chevy moonwalkin
Ten bricks on my Bart Simpson, just look
My watch, thirty-five pounds of kush
My ring, thirty-six O's my nig'
My bracelet, five hundred pounds of mid'
A Gucci wrapped tour bus, y'all hoes follow us
Party pack of pills man, hoes gonna swallow us
Naturally a loner, but love my kid
Mix the soda with the cola, I can buy me a friend
New swag somethin like Trap House times 10
E'ry nig' around me bust heads, YA DIG?~!
Iced out grill, I can't buy that bullshit
I'm with some street shit, like the reverend in the pulpit
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