[Verse 1: Beanie Sigel]
Uh, nigga, you're gutted, your paper on a budget
You ain't got a pot to piss in, no bucket
You niggas call ass on facts you can't cover
Your homie got bread, but you dead luggage!
Tommy Tucker, neighborhood sucka
Your baby mama duck ya, your bitches won't fuck ya
You petty, thief, your name is "Don't trust ya"
Better stay out them peoples' store 'fore the cops cuff ya!
David Ruffin, Eddie Kane puffer
Nights like this, you wish for bread and butter
The raindrops fall on your head with no umbrella
Fella, eh, you're broke, you're busted, you're gutted!
[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]
You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain't buttered
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted!
You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget!
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets
Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered!
[Verse 2: Beanie Sigel]
Bitch, you're gutted, your whole twist fucked up
Your knees stay scuffed up from sucking that nut up
Just to get a buck to get your hair did, done up
Your manicuring refill them bare feet cheap heels
Or them dollar store Chinese slippers
Your weave track slippin', kitchen full of dishes
House full of Bébé's Kids that stay shitting
Baby bottle empty, your rent check missing
You rock Gucci this and that but your kids bummy
You letting strangers claim them for income tax money
You need a whole foot in your ass, that shit you pulling
You weekend looker, you [?] hooker, you gutted!
Uh, nigga, you're gutted, your paper on a budget
You ain't got a pot to piss in, no bucket
You niggas call ass on facts you can't cover
Your homie got bread, but you dead luggage!
Tommy Tucker, neighborhood sucka
Your baby mama duck ya, your bitches won't fuck ya
You petty, thief, your name is "Don't trust ya"
Better stay out them peoples' store 'fore the cops cuff ya!
David Ruffin, Eddie Kane puffer
Nights like this, you wish for bread and butter
The raindrops fall on your head with no umbrella
Fella, eh, you're broke, you're busted, you're gutted!
[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]
You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain't buttered
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted!
You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget!
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets
Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered!
[Verse 2: Beanie Sigel]
Bitch, you're gutted, your whole twist fucked up
Your knees stay scuffed up from sucking that nut up
Just to get a buck to get your hair did, done up
Your manicuring refill them bare feet cheap heels
Or them dollar store Chinese slippers
Your weave track slippin', kitchen full of dishes
House full of Bébé's Kids that stay shitting
Baby bottle empty, your rent check missing
You rock Gucci this and that but your kids bummy
You letting strangers claim them for income tax money
You need a whole foot in your ass, that shit you pulling
You weekend looker, you [?] hooker, you gutted!
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