I got a pocket full of dead people

Evil voices in my head tellin' me go get this bread

Got a pocket full of dead people

Evil voices in my head tellin' me to get this bread

Got a pocket full of dead guys

Evil voices in my head tellin' me to watch the feds

And I love sellin' cake pies

It's a bad b**ch in my bed and she got that stupid head

Got me Versace shop shawty catch me walkin' out of 5ths

With a lit Glock 40 and a couple extra clips

Lenox Mall in the closet all my h*es exotic

And ain't that sh*t ironic that my doors go up robotic

I can walk the sh*t and I can talk the sh*t

I can talk the sh*t cause I got it

It's Gucci Mane I'm a walkin' lick

Got dead people in my pocket

Fallin' off in Follie's got a bag full of the mollies

A half a mil' off profit and my Muller got her jockin'

I've been livin' like a king all week

I'm a peasant at the end of every day

I've been chillin' with my n***as in the streets

Livin' like a vagabond wild free run away

Reminiscin' 'bout them bored summer days

Blowin' haze on the east side of Atlanta

Makin' moves on the shawty a Hispania

We don't speak the same language so excuse me if I stammer

I understand you wanna pick up the hammer

And build up your own she see her brother climbin' the ladder

It's your time yeah it's somethin' that you figure

I mean you can do it too but you can't be a b**ch a** ni**a

Get up off your a** find a f**kin' craft

Make bread get it back give it back times 2

Who are you Look in the mirror

Don't give a f**k what they think you're the one you're the truth

Got the juice got the juice got the juice got the juice

Mothaf**ka you the man like an 8th grade Jew

You can chew through any zebra a** in the zoo

Any ni**a tryna act hard as some leather boots f**k them

And anyone tryna step on you fire burnin'

Ni**a learnin' stay concernin' bout your paper

Now and later ain't really good time

For a ni**a 'bout his business on Wood Crest Manor

X2