Gucci Mane – Certified G lyrics

[Intro: Gucci Mane, Pacman & Yung Joc]
So Icyy swag team
Gangsta grills, you bastard
Pacman, what's hannin (happenin)
You know what it is
When you peep the swag
When you peep the swaaag
Ohhh
When you peep the swag
It's Gucci
Aye Gucci, we gotta go ham and cheese on this one
Yeaah
[Chorus: Yung Joc]
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
It's Gucci Mane the weirdo with brand new material
Like Jamerio, [?], I go histerical
Serious, delirious, I'm rappin like a idiot, I luahged a lot, Joc killed this shit, so I couldn't even finish it

[Verse 2: Yung Joc & Gucci Mane]
Ayy certainly, certainly, please believe I murk the beats
JOC and Gucci Mane, out here chasin currency
I'm pretty sure you heard of me
You heard of we, you heard of me
These haters wanna murder me, I do it as a curtesy
A chevy very burgedy, with [?], I'm playin p
Master P from 93' and these haters so sick of me
Yeah the kush it be coercin me, these copy cats rehearsin me
If your lookin for me I'll be on [?]

[Chorus: Yung Joc]
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G

[Verse 3: Pacman & Gucci Mane]
First of all, I stand a little more than four feet tall
I ain't scared to brawl, Pacman came to ball
Smokin my weed and sippin my lean, High as a plan [?]
Gucci Mane, the worker bee, so sick, get moved to quarantine
Yeah I walk with a waddle, [?] full of [?], chop models, hit the throttle
Gucci Mane, young Socrates, but man here my philosophy
Gucci you inspire me, skid marks where my tires be
Lets hit the block and drop the top, look at the astrology
Check out this comradery, we just hit the lottery
You can not find no hotter three, matter fact no hotter me
It's Gucci, Pacman, JOC, hoes eat us up like vitamins
[?] So Icyy, hit records theres got to be

[Chorus: Yung Joc]
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G
[Verse 4: Gucci Mane & Pacman]
Like [?] with the poka dots, I'm rappin so unorthodoxed
They say I'm slightly off my rocker, hit you withh them hydroshockers
I know this ain't a fairy tale, but I'm ridin with goldie locks
Check my pockets, holdin knots, I'm ridin in a stolen drop
And you're this clubs security, boy you are not a robo cop
You play me like a robo cop, I'll murk you in this parkin lot
Please believe we holdin Glocks, Y'all niggas soda pop
Soda pop, yeah soda pop, I'm payin off the nosey cops

[Chorus: Yung Joc]
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
When you peep the swag, tell me what you see
Grade A hustla, certified G