Investigation
Gucci Mane feat. Young Dolph & Big Bank Black
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It's a police investigation said they see me servin' some
Informant leaking information
Why the fuck you snitchin'
I'm in Miami with the Haitians
I don't know what the hatin' for
That's when these nigga went to hate on me
All these niggas hatin' on me
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Every 45 minutes I get a thousand grams off
It's been 45 days and you ain't got a gram off
My jamaican plug snitch with the truck I ran off
Take some from Young Scooter I'll cut your hand off
I know your daddy got the dope but you can't get the bomb off
A thousand bricks in your house what you gotta long for?
Why you buy a thousand pounds if that shit ain't strong bruh
You know kush can't grow no flavors get the fuck from round here
The block is hot and we offin' bombs daily
One wrong move and young niggas going crazy
I didn't have a dad so the streets raised me
I got up and drew up a blue print, no Jay Z
I can get the work off, even if it's hard or soft
Call Steve-o, my nigga here'll whip up a house
And that buyin money on deck, we don't see the cost
We don't do the middle man, where the fuck is your boss
(Hook: Gucci Mane)
It's a police investigation said they see me servin' some
Informant leaking information
Why the fuck you snitchin'
I'm in Miami with the Haitians
I don't know what the hatin' for
That's when these nigga went to hate on me
All these niggas hatin' on me
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
I remember way way way way back
When a nigga first started serving that crack
Had a whole brick yea, I took it
Had to call Young Scooter to cook it
36 ounces all in cookies
All the Jays calling my name they lookin'
They want it, they want it, you shoulda seen all them junkies
And my grandma kitchen is funky
Mix in that Chiplet street and I'm bunkin'
I'm passing out them bombs, eighth grade I'm stealing corn
Had my re-up in my locker, book bag full of sacks
Pay my sister the 1's and 5's and I'm stacking all them racks
Drop some bread on your bitch now she bent over in my bed
Drop some gwop on your head
Now that red dot on your forehead
I don't trust these niggas, I don't love these bitches
These bitches be sheisty, these niggas be snitchin'
Ran through a hundred pack of collard greens in the kitchen
Don't call my phone unless you tryna spend a 50
I ain't frontin shit, don't ask me
Don't make me fire this pistol and turn this bitch into a track meet
It's a police investigation
I blew smoke in their face, but you gave em' cooperation
(Hook: Gucci Mane)
It's a police investigation said they see me servin' some
Informant leaking information
Why the fuck you snitchin'
I'm in Miami with the Haitians
I don't know what the hatin' for
That's when these nigga went to hate on me
All these niggas hatin' on me
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off