Gudda Gudda
2 Blessed 2 Be Stressed
[Verse 1: Mack Maine]
Did you ever think that you'd be this rich? Uh uh
Did you ever think that you'd drive these cars? Uh uh
Did you ever think them diamonds round your neck would match your flow?
Look closely, you'll see there's no flaws, uh uh
Did you ever think that there'd be no laws? Uh uh
When you got money yeah, you above the law, uh uh
Na, n***a, the laws'll try to still come and fuck with you
Public enemy number one right here
I'm hollaring fuck the police, I ain't gon' duck the police
I ain't the type to ever trust the police
New Bentley, 550 horse power, that's the [?]
Have them pissed off, put up a roadblock
Motherfucker, you gon' [?] n***a I know not
I't's posed to be a resession, but I just made a hundred K in a day, I guess that I'm blessed with
The gift to get the money, ever since an adolescent
For the haters, I toat a Smith and Wesson
These n***as stressin, but not I
[?]
I'm a hot guy
I got a whip that's the same color of the cool ranch deredos
Or a bag of hot fries
I'm a real n***a, n***a, I will not lie
Yeah I sollomly swear, everywhere my n***a Tune go, it's only right for me to be right there
I don't trust you n***as, so I probably be rocking with him and Tez and Streets until I grow white hair
N***a, act like you know me
I ball like I'm Kobi
Ain't too much shit the OG's didn't show me
And shawty, you can tell I got money from my [?]
Plus I keep it G like [?] three
[?] I can tell you n***as is so nervous
I can tell your bitch to come over and just slerp this
Half of y'all boys still worthless
Your moms looking at you like damn, did I birth this?
You know Mack, I'm a beast
I represent from uptown all the way to the east
Young n***a balling, like Rollins and Spalding
[?] the streets, [?]
[Chorus: Gudda Gudda & Mack Maine]
On the road to riches and diamond rings
Real n***as do real things
Young Money over bitches, is the song I sing
Real n***as do real things
On the road to riches and diamond rings
Real n***as do real things
Young Money over bitches, is the song I sing
My n***a, real n***as do real things
[Verse 2: Gudda Gudda]
I got money in my ocket, and more money to get
N***a, life is all grey, I ain't stressin for shit
Getting paid for my thoughts, man, I never thought this
Painting pictures with my words like an artist
Mack and Gudda, two of the rawest recording artists
[?] the hardest shit you ever heard
I used to take a [?] with a bird
And make her take a greyhound straight to a n***a curd
[?] roll with him, [?] back down from no n***a
Word to [?]
For stress, I used to roll [?] and smoke a duby
But now I pop something, and sip drank till I'm woozy
Now [?] I slap them on they booty
And tell them fuck my n***as, bitch, you better do your duty
I can't lie, man, the lord done blessed me
Now I'm on jetskies, life is stress free