In Lyrics

[Hook x2:]
It's time to get paid, time to get it in
Call you when it come in, time to get it in
Once you in, ain't no gettin' out, blood in
Clean in, gas in, lean in

[Verse 1:]
Gucci in this bitch, I'm goin' in
At least a 50 on me 10 times out of 10
Street nigga, ballin' like an athlete when it's in
Got them new Jordans on and I'm not even playin'
On Glenwood, got that traphouse on that dead end
Burglar bar doors, I can't let you in
This shit's so crazy, you can't even trust your friends
Your girl fuckin' your right hand man, you in the pen
These hoes just wanna know what kind of car you're in ('Rari)
Designer bag, she's tryna keep up with her friends (Gucci)
A happy marriage, she divorced him in the end
Dividends, even a kingpin budgets what he spends

[Hook x2]

[Verse 2:]
If a nigga try me, it's a [?]
Your mama, it's okay, pussy niggas go to Heaven
If I shoot you in your mouth, then the nae nae, you can tell 'em
Gucci Mane ain't scaredy, he don't need no one to help him
I'ma smoke a pound of blunts, then I'ma eat your ass for breakfast
And I would never diss another nigga just to sell a record
In the kitchen touchin' babies, call me Chester child molester
And if the packs is down on schedule, I give a fuck about a record
I ain't had work in 'bout two months, life ain't the same without the extra
40K for my gold Rollie, homie, that's without the bezel
Tell your girl do what I tell her cause your bankroll under pressure
I'm on the top, you in the basement, man we're on two different levels

[Hook x2]