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Gucci Mane - All Dz Chainz Lyrics

This song also features: Lil Baby
(Wheezy outta here)

They sayin' I do too much 'cause I got all these chains on
Niggas don't like when we in the club, 'cause they get rained on
We get up with niggas, we turn disses into pain songs
The feds picked up the case, he got a bond, that money bring him home
How many you got? Just bring 'em all, I'm Mr. Get 'Em Gone
I move like a ghost, I'm on the go, four weeks I switch the phone
I walk in all calm but I run shit, no cap, I set the tone

You the type to flex for hoes, I'm the type turn up the bros
I wouldn't give a damn, they all for life, you better not break the code
Knowin' bro ain't sweet, you tryna speak, so they had wiped your nose
So deep off in the street, I signed my life away to sellin' 'bows
Blue Ferrari cost nine hunnid bands, you know I paid cash
Kinda thick, she just missin' a lil', so I touch up her ass
They just spin, I tell 'em, "Spin again, and bro don't leave your mask"
If I don't go, I'm gon' feel like a ho, we gon' get on your ass
Fuck the other side, you gon' get blicks for tryna mediate
I'm gon' run this money up no matter way or either way (yeah)

My bullets don't discriminate, don't play with Wop, I demonstrate (Wop)
Don't get shot on the interstate, your girlfriend hyperventilate
R.I.P. to Trouble and free Thugger and free Gunna too (Trouble)
While you at it, free the Mayor Foo and free my nigga Pooh (Pooh)
The DA bring up lyrics in the court, may not be even true (huh?)
And try to pin some shit next to your name that you ain't even do (well, damn)
Fuck the other side, they needa be shot for tryna duplicate (bah, baow)
Ran off with the swag like they forgot where it originated (huh?)
Fuck the trolls, the blogs, the hoes and yes-men who be instigatin' (fuck 'em)
Hit him in the head and he survived, but still a mental patient (ayy)
I don't even have to drop no payments, they feel obligated (yeah)
Shit's so complicated, now the killers be cooperatin' (wow)
Feds investigatin', but I made it, never gave a statement (nah)
AKA Big Gucci or Big Guwop, never call me Radric (never)
Ain't nobody safe, so I tote Glock 'cause they don't have a safety (huh?)
I got killers strapped all on a yacht, we the So Icy Navy (on the Navy)
And I'ma rep the A until I'm eighty, that's the hood that made me
I done sold so many tuna babies, think I'm born in Grady (it's Gucci)

They sayin' I do too much 'cause I got all these chains on
Niggas don't like when we in the club, 'cause they get rained on
We get up with niggas, we turn disses into pain songs
The feds picked up the case, he got a bond, that money bring him home
How many you got? Just bring 'em all, I'm Mr. Get 'Em Gone
I move like a ghost, I'm on the go, four weeks I switch the phone
I walk in all calm but I run shit, no cap, I set the tone (no cap, I set the tone)
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Published By: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written By: Dominique Jones, Juke Wong, Radric Davis, Wesley Glass