Bluffin Songtext

von Gucci Mane

(Kutta, cut that shit up, man)

Switch the weather when I want, we at the other, other spot
Me and bro ain′t swappin' out our jewels, this another watch
I get all types of bags in, I′m a different hot
Shrooms, sex on the private jet, this a different high

I'm with the clappers
Brodie changed his life, but he an ex-kidnapper
Ain't tryna go there with you, weird-ass actors
And rappers or whatever you call yourself
I got five cellphones, tell them niggas to call my bluff

That lit shit I don′t post, I can′t show them folks all of this stuff
Tighten up the business, I done killed and been ballin' it up
Older niggas postin′ motivation, they holdin' they nuts
Keep the windows clear, so them pussy niggas can see the guts

Cutlass, she thinkin′ I'm stubborn
But, baby, I′m the catch, I catch up with you when I can
Need a camera crew, everything we do it should be on film
We came through a hundred deep, I seen you with your boyfriend

Horse playin', I was in a 'Rari, I was with a barbie, I had on Mari
I call her Lori, my new-new, yeah-yeah, my boo
Shit I rap ′bout be all facts, I′m livin' out my truth
He think he this ′cause he bought that, bruh, I copped bruh one too

We havin' motions for real, plural, everybody gettin′ money
I took off on niggas, real bad, everybody act funny
Life a hard pill to swallow, nigga, everybody got a stomach
I tried to show niggas the right way, so everybody leave the wrong way

I tried to lead by example, helped everybody get money
I quit lean and stopped gamblin', I′m an ex-codeine junkie (Lean)
Stayed in motels with my family and did push-ups with my bunky
Used to work up off my brother 'nem, but I ain't never been no flunky (no)

Some nigga tried me, but couldn′t call me, just a young nigga, they jumped me
One nigga still think he got one up on me, but his day still comin′ (wow)
I don't make threats, no, I promise, I just drop bands like commas
Don′t even ask me 'bout dead folks, ′cause I ain't got no comment (yeah)

I want my M′s up to one, two, three, four, five one-hundred (go)
I ain't arguin' on no internet, I′m not Wack100 (no)
Miami with no shirt just to show off the tats on my stomach (man)
Niggas old and broke, and out of shape, it sick, make me vomit

It′s been 18 year later and my stock still ain't plummet
Had to bet on myself, and made somethin′ from nothin' (yeah)
Niggas sayin′ they did this and that, for me y'all ain′t do nothin'
Nigga gon' throw they hand in and stop all that bluffin′ (it′s Gucci)