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Pissy (feat. Roddy Ricch, Nardo Wick) (Explicit) - Gucci Mane/Nardo Wick/Roddy Ricch
Lyrics by：Radric Davis/Paul Penso/William Benoit/Avery Halliburton/Rodrick Moore Jr./Horace B. Walls III
Composed by：Radric Davis/Paul Penso/William Benoit/Avery Halliburton/Rodrick Moore Jr./Horace B. Walls III

Well d**n
Takin' all facts Grandma raised me
I'm from the Westside where it get sticky
And my four wheels come with road kiss
I got Elliott like I'm Missy
Stack my bread up cut the corners off
It ain't no way you could diss me
***** I got the yellow gold I got the yellow stones
And my wrist and ring it look pissy hey
Put on them daisy-do's show me what that new Mercedes do
Real trap house all the pots and pans come with residue
All my young n***as know it's some revenue
I'm Anthony Davis when he was at the Pelicans
I don't pull up to court for no settlements
All white and the coupe look angelic
We was lookin' around for the baddest of *******
So I had to go out and vet it
If they say they want smoke I got all of the Glocks
'Cause back in I had to get ahead of it
You my cousin but you ain't my relative
The outside of the coupe black like melanin
I feel like I'm Dan Bilzerian 'cause I got some Australians
And my wrist and ring it look pissy
Go
Big yellow Cuban on and it's pissy
Uh
Walk big blue stones like I'm Nipsey
Nip'
I pop champagne 'til I'm tipsy
Still be spendin' M's in my sixties
Please don't try the 'Wop 'cause it's risky
Ain't no mystery in my history
No
Had to turn that boy into Swiss cheese
Grrah
Hit with that switchie shoot 'til it's empty
Wrist just did a 360
Skrrt
Car like Zion before the entry
Ballin'
I ain't broke you can't fix me
Nah
Havin' power feelin' like 50
50
Eastside of the city where this **** can get really sticky
Sticks
Anybody can get it man my bullets ain't really picky
In a yellow coupe with a yellow bone
With my Jacob on with the yellow stones
Brr
White stones movin' Flintstones
Came a long way from a herring bowl
All started from a mini-phone
I ran it up and my money long
It's long
Had to take a chance for two-hundred bands
'Cause my country boy had a trailer home
'Wop
Neck look pissy uh please don't touch it's risky uh
My finger itchin' uh me and my Glock get busy uh
They say we livin' uh I say "We ain't lived enough"
They say we did it uh I say "We ain't did enough"
I don't hang with sheep
Uh-uh
I pull up Lamb'
I interrupt his sentences
Huh
Before he can talk blind
Cook a whole thirty-seven
She hate when I call her mine
Don't do that
She gave me head for a hour her coochie say "Well d**n"
I got your ***** on the leash
Yeah
She don't ever get too far
She make you **** in the bed she let me hit in the car
Please stop blowin' her up she with me yeah see you tomorrow
She say her wishes to me she know I'm a shootin' star
Grrah grrah