[Hook]
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass

[Verse 1]
Gucci Mane make a n***a wear a shit bag
Acting bad, like a kid at Six Flags
I'll send some slugs at your bitch ass
In my hood, ain't no love for your bitch ass
Fifty pounds in a trash bag
Anybody move then that n***a get blast at
Hit a lick for about fifty stacks
N***as' tripping, talking about Gucci bring the money back
Half a brick, and I'm bunking that
I'm in the trap where the junkies at
I'm getting fat, fuck a jumping jack
Zay' drop a track, the whole industry be jocking that
I'll put a hole in your stocking cap
Work you like a bitch at the Body Tap
I stay strapped, blow you off the map
N***as' hate behind my back, but when they see me give me dap

[Hook]
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
[Verse Two]
Uuuuhh, I'm from the hood, I'll punch your lights out
I took your jewelry, now I'm iced out
Gucci Mane got that 'caine in
I swear I'd never tuck my chain in
You're just a thug in training
I'm a thug entertaining
Really, I'm a street n***a
That chopper on the seat, n***a
I'm ready for that beef, n***a
Young Gucci's got to eat, n***a
I guess I'll see you when I see you, n***a
I wouldn't want to be you, n***a
Now, ain't that like a n***a
Trying to sound like a n***a
A lover not a fighter, n***a
But let me see your lighter, n***a

[Hook]
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass

[Verse Three]
You see the bracelet on my arm, my necklace, my charm
I'm dangerous and armed with grenades and bombs
Y'all done slumped out with tons of ones
In the club, putting on like I'm 'Dapper Don'
Yours truly, Young Gucci, all I do is hustle hard
Never had credit but used my tool as a Mastercard
Grimy and gritty, hotter than cooking with lard
Gucci Mane on the block again, and I'm cooking you boys
It's that grown ass shit, n***a, bring all the toys
When I snap they'll have to call the lieutenant and sarge
Bring the whole entourage, since you thinking you hard
And watch how quick I load the chopper bullets, you've got to dodge
Uh, Gucci Mane on the track, n***a
Zaytoven on the track, n***a
Big Cat, La Flare, n***a
I'm the lawnmower man, n***a
[Hook]
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass
Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash
I'm the lawnmower man and your ass is grass