Poppin
Lyrics
1-0-1-7 (poppin')
BigWalkDog
BigWalkDog
Big 1-0-1-7 (ayy)
Hey
Hey, hey, hey
When you poppin', every time you move, you gotta move with a rocket (uh)
Lookin' at the jewels, you see a pool in the faucet (brr)
Za' hit the mail, come straight from the tropic
Got a coconut smell, but it hit like we boxin' (yeah)
She only ate the dick, but she still sayin' toxic
She know I got racks, so she do it more sloppy
Off a Percocet, I can't feel my body
But she ain't gettin' shit outta none of these pockets (nope)
Nah, she ain't gettin' shit outta none of these wallets
Broke down a bowl just to smoke at Hibachi
I ain't need me a plug, I'm the whole damn socket
Can't nan dare opp come on the road blockin'
Sippin' on Wocky, pop me a Roxie, know they gon' watch me
Built for this shit, nigga, how they gon' stop me?
I was just loadin' up shit on the dolly
I feel like fly, I don't need nobody
Big dawg, I'm for real, I don't need co-signin'
Might go get me 'Cat or a Scat, no mileage (skrrt)
In the city where I'm from, we ain't have no God
Nigga play with who? Nigga play with Wop, know they dyin'
Might just go to Wafi get a twenty, make it shine
I ain't never had shit, not a motherfuckin' dime
Wop got me out the trenches, had murder on my mind (Wop)
And the plug just called, said thirty on the line (uh)
Need a P up in the East and need a P up in the West
He ain't grabbin' two, then it's on to the next
Thirteen, with my daddy, watchin' niggas get finessed
On the first and the third, gettin' everybody checked
Make a block, do it again, gettin' everybody stretched
I done made it out, so I'm at you fuck-nigga neck
Don't know what I want, new Jacob or Patek, flex
When you poppin', every time you move, you gotta move with a rocket (uh)
Lookin' at the jewels, you see a pool in the faucet
Za' hit the mail, come straight from the tropic
Got a coconut smell, but it hit like we boxin' (yeah)
She only ate the dick, but she still sayin' toxic (ugh)
Know I got racks, so she do it more sloppy
Off a Percocet, I can't feel my body
But she ain't gettin' shit outta none of these pockets (nope)
Every time you move, you gotta move with a rocket
Lookin' at the jewels, you see a pool in the faucet (bling)
Za' hit the mail, come straight from the tropic (yeah)
Got a coconut smell, but it hit like we boxin'
She only ate the dick, but she still sayin' toxic
She know I got racks, so she do it more sloppy (it's Gucci)
Off a Percocet, I can't feel my body
But she ain't gettin' shit outta none of these pockets (haan)
Can't nobody pop shit the way I pop it
Million-dollar watch on my wrist, no cappin' (bling)
Say he got money, where it went? What happened?
Sign with Gucci Mane, get rich, go platinum (go, go)
I know the feds watchin', but 12 can't stop it
The bills came in, I pulled up, went shoppin'
Pull up in a Dawn and the top start droppin' (Dawn)
They let me outta jail and the price start hoppin' (Wop)
Cartel mailbox money, so dirty you could smell my money (haan)
I'm a crook 'bout money, if you owe me better pay my money
So rich that I weigh my money and I look like money
And I don't really need new friends
So please stop callin' me "twin," I'ma say that shit again (stop callin' me twin)
You ain't never killed no man
So you could never fit in my skin, it's Big Gucci Mane (it's Gucci)
Every time you move, you gotta move with a rocket (haan)
Lookin' at the jewels, you see a pool in the faucet
Za' hit the mail, come straight from the tropic
Got a coconut smell, but it hit like we boxin' (yeah)
She only ate the dick, but she still sayin' toxic
Know I got racks, so she do it more sloppy
Off a Percocet, I can't feel my body
But she ain't gettin' shit outta none of these pockets (nope)
Same young nigga still posted in the trick
On a plane with an opp, 'bout to go off in this shit
I don't even like flyin', can't move with a stick
Call my junkie out the jungle, he gon' pull up with the stick
On the phone with him now, he gon' pull up by six
Talkin' 'bout tappin' in, I ain't tappin' in shit
You ain't tap in with me before a nigga got rich
My homie poppin' Percocet, Doc say he at risk
Smokin' Wedding Cake, ain't nobody married in this bitch
From the street, now a nigga really married to this shit
I was broke than a bitch, now I'm havin' all this grip
Need blue cheese salad, nothin' added to the mix
Went from noodle with the cracker, steak added on the list
Got a Glock 17, nothin' added but a switch
Got this shit up out the mud, wouldn't hand it to a nigga
'Fore they label me a rat they gon' label me a killer
Writer(s): Dajour Jamal Walker, Donovan Hardie, Harry Ismail Alexander Hadrian Potter, Radric Delantic Davis
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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