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letra de shit crazy (remix) - gucci mane

[intro: big30, gucci mane, & ]
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mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm
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blrrrd
wop
()

[verse 1: sett]
f-ck the opps crazy (crazy)
motion in the city, movin’ dope just like the ’80s (that work)
more guns than the navy
never wrote a statement (no)
go check out them pages (that paperwork)
amiri jeans crazy (designer)
high class, nothin’ basic (basic)
cookout runtz, i’m facin’ (packed ’em)
diamonds hittin’, glacier (ice)
widebody sp-cious (sp-cious)
fresh up out the can, icy gang sett got ’em hatin’ (hatin’-ass n-gga)
n-gga, you owe me, pay me, seen too much, i’m takin’ (pay me, buster-ass n-gga)
still gon’ hop in the wraith for that bacon (yep), hop out, gang done faced him, baow
run with the members, the mafia, reach for my chain, i pop him (glued his ass)
completed whole lot of missions, half of that sh-t was impossible (impossible)
thirty deep from the opps, scat pack shakin’ they houses, yeah
trooper tryna get behind me, out of there, couldn’t even stop it
b-tch, f-ck the opps crazy
yeah (yeah)
[chorus: big30]
man, man, this sh-t crazy (crazy, crazy)
i’m in miami with gucci, rolls royce look like flavors (blrrrd, they flavors)
this murder sh-t ain’t nothin’ to me, whackin’ sh-t on the daily (this sh-t a daily)
lil’ b-tch say she ain’t heard of me, told the lil’ b-tch she gave it (man, ho, you gave it)
still trappin’ up off my flip, wish i could go trap off my pager

[verse 2: gucci mane & big30]
i see these n-ggas hatin’, i ain’t losin’ sleep about it though (no)
members creep like tlc, .223 sh-lls out the jeep (blrrrd)
no one gon’ take care of me the way that i take care of me (take care of me)
get booked in front security (‘curity), your bodyguard ain’t scarin’ me (no)
put your friend in therapy, you know i did, he barely lived (grrt)
askin’ me, “take care of it,” i squash it if i pay the bill (pay the bill)
i don’t play detective games they play, no, i don’t play with them (play with them)
i don’t free-pick n-ggas when i beef or show no favoritism (no favoritism)
lil’ boy still need training wheels, these army guns, not baby pistols (baby pistols)
all these fours and babies in my house, i’m like a babysitter (a babysitter)
gucci mane and shiesty twins, we bait him in, then play the n-gga (slime)
machine gun friends, twin f&n’s (slatt), stand on ten, i raised the n-gga (brrt)
shoot him first, then did the verse, my bank account go crazy, n-gga (let’s go)
police keep on tasin’ n-ggas, one shot k!ll, amazed the n-gga (amazed the n-gga)
shiesty, that’s my dirk nowitzki, ain’t no way i’m tradin’ the n-gga (can’t trade ’em in)
no shade, i’m too rich to fade, he ran up, so i blazed the n-gga

[chorus: big30 & mac critter]
man, man, this sh-t crazy (crazy, crazy)
i’m in miami with gucci, rolls royce look like flavors (blrrrd, they flavors)
this murder sh-t ain’t nothin’ to me, whackin’ sh-t on the daily (this sh-t a daily)
lil’ b-tch say she ain’t heard of me, told the lil’ b-tch she gave it (man, ho, you gave it)
still trappin’ up off my flip, wish i could go trap off my pager (yeah)
[verse 3: mac critter]
1017 hundred, they like, “mac critter just gave it” (gave it)
i know the opps sittin’ back, lookin’ like, “that sh-t crazy” (crazy)
7th street n-gga (7th street), but a north memphis baby (baby)
switches hit him, leave him lazy (grrt, boom, boom)
cut him off by his navel (boom)
still servin’ the neighbors (neighbors)
thick-ass ho, won’t save her (nah)
i put on that vlone, any occasion (drip, sauce)
when i’m in the benz or the scat, like to race it (race it)
she like liquor and i like wock’ (wock’)
spinnin’ the city all night with an opp (yeah)
all that blue money make a ho flop (flop)
ho gon’ go and that’s off top (top)
you a ho just like your daddy (popped)
whole memphis know we crashin’ (brr)
ain’t got no motion, ain’t havin’ no action
pretty-ass ho, she thick, i’m smashin’ (on god)
thick-ass ho, on god, i’m smashin’
these n-ggas scared, runnin’ from that smoke, when i see the opps, i’m clashin’

[chorus: big30]
man, man, this sh-t crazy (crazy, crazy)
i’m in miami with gucci, rolls royce look like flavors (blrrrd, they flavors)
this murder sh-t ain’t nothin’ to me, whackin’ sh-t on the daily (this sh-t a daily)
lil’ b-tch say she ain’t heard of me, told the lil’ b-tch she gave it (man, ho, you gave it)
still trappin’ up off my flip, wish i could go trap off my pager
[outro]
(twysted g*nius, baby)
(what it do, 30?)

- gucci mane

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