What the Hell - Gucci Mane, Waka Flocka Flame, Rocko

Might as well sell a bale

What the hell?

Oh…

I’m just a nigga with a fucking scale

Trying to stay outta jail, oh…

I am just a shooter, shorty

I hang out with shooters, shorty

Put you in that torture rack

Call me Lex Luger, shorty

You can call me Jason

Or you call me Freddie Kruger, Shorty

Forty’s just a feature, charge you fifty for the after-party

Gucci Mane’s the shooter boss

No, not a producer, shorty

Eighty goons on your ass, like some barracudas, shorty

Young ass nigga with a mouth full of gold

Bitches know I’m rich as fuck

Dumbass nigga with a mouth full of hate

Grab my AK and chop 'em up

Still fuck at least ten bitches a day

Like I’m a pornagrapher

Gucci Mane and Flocka

Can’t even see us if you had binoculars

Ice cream’s backordered

New color chat water

Call your girlfriend «Trapitha»

Everybody grabbin' her

Everybody stabbin' her

Suckin' on us like Dracula

Mid-grade, mid-grade

Been sellin' it seventh grade

Stay with that throw away

Cellphone chirping, catchin' plays

Fifty slabs, hundred slabs, seven grams, half-a-ounces

Offer that, runnin' that, from the back

No commin' back

Shorty want an eight-ball, told her call Gucci

Trappin' with my gutter chick, work up in her coochie

Dope man Nike’s, Levi’s with the white tee

I fucked my money up, now I think that they don’t like me

Shorty’s pilled and talkin' told me where her nigga’s white be

You that I’m sheisty

These niggas' nothing like me

Money, money, I be countin' hunneds

Looking for the jackers

You know that I’m gunning

I’m Just trying to see another day

Yesterday it was okay

Hopefully today’ll be better though

Hopefully I’ll get some better blow

Snowflakes out here finna go

I’m just trying to keep my ho

Hopefully I’ll hit the lotto

I’m so tired of sellin' this stone

Every day we live for the moment

Every second we got to do what we go to do

If I finessed you, I had to

I had to do what I had to do

You retaliate, can’t be mad at you

Gotta do what you gotta do

I can’t take offense to it

Still, I gotta play defense

Cold-hearted amphibians

In this street, all this slime

Nigga told you he ain’t never thought he hit no lick

That nigga lyin'

At night I get on my knees

Free my conscious, free my mind

God, help us find another way

We’re so tired of committing these crimes, ay