| Song | Gutta - Album Version (Explicit) |
| Artist | Ace Hood |
| Artist | Trick Daddy |
| Album | DJ Khaled Presents Ace Hood Gutta |
| 作曲 : Jackson, Jackson, Long ... | |
| It's so incredible | |
| AceYou ain't comin' round here | |
| Talkin' all that shit | |
| Talkin' 'bout you get all them bricks | |
| I'm a have to come round your way | |
| Nigga I'm real you all too fake | |
| And a pistol where ya mama stay | |
| Act like I don't know where you lay | |
| Betta act right fo' | |
| I get uptight | |
| Act up I'm a let the automatic spray(Get 'em) | |
| Boy, there ya go(Get 'em) | |
| Boy, there ya go | |
| Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka | |
| Boy, there you go | |
| Hol' up with it, | |
| KhaledDon't let me get 'em | |
| Gun cocked, where his cheerin'? | |
| No talk, time to get him | |
| Fake niggas gon' make me kill him | |
| Make his body shiver like he naked in a river | |
| Matter fact | |
| I'm a leave him in the river | |
| Come and get him when it's winter | |
| Nigga holla back, | |
| I'm gutta, | |
| I done told ya that | |
| Rock boy bitch over bags | |
| Say you movin' them slabs of crack | |
| See nigga you a lie like | |
| Pac is back | |
| Man you niggas all crap | |
| And you homies won't last' | |
| Til your somethin' like paper tags | |
| Don't make me slide the mask | |
| To save from blast, get his ass | |
| You ain't comin' round here | |
| Talkin' all that shit | |
| Talkin' 'bout you get all them bricks | |
| I'm a have to come round your way | |
| Nigga I'm real you all too fake | |
| And a pistol where ya mama stay | |
| Act like I don't know where you lay | |
| Betta act right fo' | |
| I get uptight | |
| Act up I'm a let the automatic spray | |
| Now let me get 'em | |
| When I walk up in the place | |
| Put the pace in ya face | |
| Tell 'em gimme that | |
| KFuck niggas and they really don't think | |
| That I know where they lay duct tape they face | |
| Pop pop, unload that | |
| K then we leave em and we find'em in a couple of days | |
| Pussy niggas know where you lay | |
| Actin' like | |
| I don't know where you stay | |
| Runnin' at ya mouth man, ya nigga's too fake | |
| Tellin' all the niggas that you move them thangs, what? | |
| Y'ain't 'bout that lie. huh? | |
| Y'ain't got no stride, naw | |
| You'nt really grind, leave em in the streets' | |
| Til the D boys find 'em, dumb niggas | |
| And they huggin' on the grind in the middle of this town | |
| We gon' g-g-get 'em | |
| You ain't comin' round here | |
| Talkin' all that shit | |
| Talkin' 'bout you get all them bricks | |
| I'm a have to come round your way | |
| Nigga I'm real you all too fake | |
| And a pistol where ya mama stay | |
| Act like I don't know where you lay | |
| Betta act right fo' | |
| I get uptight | |
| Act up I'm a let the automatic spray | |
| Now who am | |
| I? Mothafuckas wanna know | |
| When I pull up in that rover | |
| They know that it's over | |
| Big holes in ya body like coasters | |
| Creep, creep we deep with soldiers | |
| Black holster to carry that toaster | |
| Hot head, now they callin' me folgers | |
| But still creep in | |
| Adidas with the heaters, millimeters | |
| Wanna see where yo family at pop | |
| Pop just call me ace | |
| Slump niggas, | |
| I'm a call you dead | |
| Click clack now ya | |
| T-shirt red | |
| Hand 'em an tampon, no batteries included know that | |
| The clip be hands on, it'll take yo mans on | |
| Leave his body slumped in the damn yard(Get 'em) | |
| You ain't comin' round here | |
| Talkin' all that shit | |
| Talkin' 'bout you get all them bricks | |
| I'm a have to come round your way | |
| Nigga I'm real you all too fake | |
| And a pistol where ya mama stay | |
| Act like I don't know where you lay | |
| Betta act right fo' | |
| I get uptight | |
| Act up I'm a let the automatic spray |
| zuò qǔ : Jackson, Jackson, Long ... | |
| It' s so incredible | |
| AceYou ain' t comin' round here | |
| Talkin' all that shit | |
| Talkin' ' bout you get all them bricks | |
| I' m a have to come round your way | |
| Nigga I' m real you all too fake | |
| And a pistol where ya mama stay | |
| Act like I don' t know where you lay | |
| Betta act right fo' | |
| I get uptight | |
| Act up I' m a let the automatic spray Get ' em | |
| Boy, there ya go Get ' em | |
| Boy, there ya go | |
| Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka | |
| Boy, there you go | |
| Hol' up with it, | |
| KhaledDon' t let me get ' em | |
| Gun cocked, where his cheerin'? | |
| No talk, time to get him | |
| Fake niggas gon' make me kill him | |
| Make his body shiver like he naked in a river | |
| Matter fact | |
| I' m a leave him in the river | |
| Come and get him when it' s winter | |
| Nigga holla back, | |
| I' m gutta, | |
| I done told ya that | |
| Rock boy bitch over bags | |
| Say you movin' them slabs of crack | |
| See nigga you a lie like | |
| Pac is back | |
| Man you niggas all crap | |
| And you homies won' t last' | |
| Til your somethin' like paper tags | |
| Don' t make me slide the mask | |
| To save from blast, get his ass | |
| You ain' t comin' round here | |
| Talkin' all that shit | |
| Talkin' ' bout you get all them bricks | |
| I' m a have to come round your way | |
| Nigga I' m real you all too fake | |
| And a pistol where ya mama stay | |
| Act like I don' t know where you lay | |
| Betta act right fo' | |
| I get uptight | |
| Act up I' m a let the automatic spray | |
| Now let me get ' em | |
| When I walk up in the place | |
| Put the pace in ya face | |
| Tell ' em gimme that | |
| KFuck niggas and they really don' t think | |
| That I know where they lay duct tape they face | |
| Pop pop, unload that | |
| K then we leave em and we find' em in a couple of days | |
| Pussy niggas know where you lay | |
| Actin' like | |
| I don' t know where you stay | |
| Runnin' at ya mouth man, ya nigga' s too fake | |
| Tellin' all the niggas that you move them thangs, what? | |
| Y' ain' t ' bout that lie. huh? | |
| Y' ain' t got no stride, naw | |
| You' nt really grind, leave em in the streets' | |
| Til the D boys find ' em, dumb niggas | |
| And they huggin' on the grind in the middle of this town | |
| We gon' ggget ' em | |
| You ain' t comin' round here | |
| Talkin' all that shit | |
| Talkin' ' bout you get all them bricks | |
| I' m a have to come round your way | |
| Nigga I' m real you all too fake | |
| And a pistol where ya mama stay | |
| Act like I don' t know where you lay | |
| Betta act right fo' | |
| I get uptight | |
| Act up I' m a let the automatic spray | |
| Now who am | |
| I? Mothafuckas wanna know | |
| When I pull up in that rover | |
| They know that it' s over | |
| Big holes in ya body like coasters | |
| Creep, creep we deep with soldiers | |
| Black holster to carry that toaster | |
| Hot head, now they callin' me folgers | |
| But still creep in | |
| Adidas with the heaters, millimeters | |
| Wanna see where yo family at pop | |
| Pop just call me ace | |
| Slump niggas, | |
| I' m a call you dead | |
| Click clack now ya | |
| Tshirt red | |
| Hand ' em an tampon, no batteries included know that | |
| The clip be hands on, it' ll take yo mans on | |
| Leave his body slumped in the damn yard Get ' em | |
| You ain' t comin' round here | |
| Talkin' all that shit | |
| Talkin' ' bout you get all them bricks | |
| I' m a have to come round your way | |
| Nigga I' m real you all too fake | |
| And a pistol where ya mama stay | |
| Act like I don' t know where you lay | |
| Betta act right fo' | |
| I get uptight | |
| Act up I' m a let the automatic spray |