This is a song about "Louie and gucci"

Smoke until i ain't got no lungs

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

If a could gucci mane would be ma character

And maybe one day his kids, something that he'll live for

Seven, what's religion nigga? i am legend

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

I ain't into that trick shit, those bitches and those gucci belts?

Cause i'll be honest: i ain't tryna be a victim of the projects

I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

And shorty, you straight, bet you look way better without no drawers

Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,

And if we don't we'll have a race of babies

Out off gucci seats with heat that a make ya luie leave.

We the moody, gucci, louis and pucci men

But when it’s all said and done i’mma be ahead of them