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letra de 12 - gucci mane

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[hook: gucci mane]
there go 12 my n-gga
you better bail my n-gga
can’t be locked down in no motherf-ckin’ cell my n-gga
you better run my n-gga
cus here they come my n-gga
hide your bomb and your motherf-ckin’ gun my n-gga
there go 12 my n-gga
you better bail my n-gga
can’t be locked down in no motherf-ckin’ cell my n-gga
you better run my n-gga
cus here they come my n-gga
hide your bomb and your motherf-ckin’ gun my n-gga

[verse 1: gucci mane]
orange suit, shower, shoes, jail house tattoos
i keep money on my book, i live the life of a crook
ain’t no sunshine n-gga, i’m just doin’ my time
when i touch down on the block i’m poppin’ bottles of wine
gucci mane, i’m a motherf-ckin’ g
i’m looking out for twelve cus they looking out for me
and if i see them crackers then a n-gga gotta skeet
can’t let them p-ssy boys play a n-gga off the street
and plus a n-gga gotta pack a fat gun, if he tote a crack bomb
never caught a dope case? don’t try to catch one
first one to skeet on my feet be them air force ones
running like a slave in them days of the hot sun
you gone get locked up, you froze up, they rolled up
popped and got hit with that billy club, it’s swole up
mama mad as h-ll cus she gotta bail your tail out
tired of the stress, so she put your stupid ass out
back doing the same thing, selling crack cocaine
police know your name, but you just won’t lay low man
it’s a dirty game when you slangin’ them birdies
got caught with a brick, and they hit the trick with 30
probably gone do 10 but a dub on that paper man
trappin’ in decatur better run from them haters man
you better run from them haters man
better run from them haters man

[hook: gucci mane]
there go 12 my n-gga
you better bail my n-gga
can’t be locked down in no motherf-ckin’ cell my n-gga
you better run my n-gga
cus here they come my n-gga
hide your bomb and your motherf-ckin’ gun my n-gga
there go 12 my n-gga
you better bail my n-gga
can’t be locked down in no motherf-ckin’ cell my n-gga
you better run my n-gga
cus here they come my n-gga
hide your bomb and your motherf-ckin’ gun my n-gga

[verse 2: gucci mane]
the police, dcpd the crime rate gone increase
[and if i’m rusty?]brave bring your glock and leave your pepper spray
a paddy wagon full of yay, is you asking where i stay?
getting paid off the money from a drug raid
idolized by the innocent american youth
i’m with these billy clubs, big gats and them bulletproofs
that’s why these cop k!ller bullets in my clip
i’m infiltrating your vest and drawing some smiley faces on your chest
9-1-1 in my community is a waste of time
they don’t prevent the sh-t, but come when you commit the crime
then put a flag on a casket when a pig drops?
what about my boy who got popped by that corrupt cop?
we got the right, to get our ass whopped on sight
police man by day, a f-cking klans-man by night
i’m shooting birds at your ass standing on the corner
f-ck dodging 12 lil jits go waiting on em

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