Letra Informant - Gucci Mane

I sit around in the with my young niggas
Sellin' narcotics
Boys in the hood, wanna see a dead body?
Fuck 12, cause a ni*** got a 12-gauge shotty
And I heard Vicky boy just shot somebody
Rude boy, tote a [?] with the bumbaclot
Rasclat better run, cause Im lookin sharp
Head shot, pop pop pop pop pop to your dreadlock
And I drop the informant who talk to the damn cops

I'm a soldier on the battlefield
I murk your ass for real
Got a young ni*** who love to kill
More bodies than a Navy Seal
These young boys ain't got nothin' to do
But somethin' to prove and somethin' to shoot
Kill you on you birthday
Take you cake, and f*** your lady too
Shoot you in your dreads
Now, have a Rastafarian funeral
'
Hundred wawa's, all with woppers
Ain't no fuc*** breathing room
18 karat golden choppa my hollow tip got diamonds (burr)
Extended clip I dipped my clip in rose gold, so it match my jewelry, fool
'Gucci Mane got stupid money, but that boy ain't lyrical'
I'm Eazy-E, reincarnated, but without the Jheri curl (R.I.P.)
Without the Dre Beats on my ear
And ice cubes on my baby girl

Here's you a little tip
Gucci Mane a miracle
Call me anything but lyrical
The shit gonna get physical
[?] on your bitch ass
I fuc*** her in the living room
She tried to get you to rob the wop now the bitch in critical
Short, fine
Big butt, with a fat purse
[?] nine, show time
Make that gat burst
I don't mind
But, don't touch it 'till you ask first
My new chick
She'll eat a dick like a bratwurst
I sip the lean
Pancake, Mrs. Butterworth
100K on three whips, that's a T-rex
100 pounds, I didn't pay
I got a weed debt