Gudda Gudda - Inside Looking Out lyrics

rate me

i’m on the inside looking out

at a world that’s full of doubt

very underrated, i’m the down south champion

but they sleepin’ on me like they took a bunch of ampion

so i’mma go hard, got bars like brikers

young money bitch, it ain’t a squad, nothing like us

you ain’t gotta listen to us, you ain’t gotta like us

but you gon respect the team or be ridin’ like bikers

numbers don’t rhyme but you lame rappers do

talkin’ ‘bout a bunch of shit you never did and won’t do

got the game in the chokehold, it won’t let loose

if you look pass the lies you could see that i’m the truth

young j to the gutter like the top of your roof

summer time, i just let the top drop on the coupe

getting money, ain’t nothing wrong with that

but these hate ass niggas lookin’ like it’s wrong, in fact

they just mad at the world cuz they broke and whack

in fact they probly just mad cuz they broke and wham

it’s all good homie, yea, get your shot one day

and i’mma make a hundred grand by sunday

nigga what? i ain’t give a fuck

i ain’t a wishing well nigga, don’t try your luck

but i’mma wish you well and the best for your luck

but remember nigga, i’m the big dog, you a pup

it’s gutta time 2, the hood gave me that name

still shaking dice, 20.000 at the crab game

still got some homies in the street in the crack game

and i promised i would give them jobs in the web game

real nigga shit, that’s real nigga spittin’

real niggas do real shit, that’s how i’m livin’

nigga gifted with the whips, that’s a motherfuckin’ giveth

goddamn, good riddens, i’mma punish all these niggas

i’m ill with the rittens, my pin gon make me millions

i don’t write what i’m thinkin’, i’m just writin’ what i’m feelin’

i’m high like the ceiling, styrophoam cup fill it to the rim

i’m sippin’ on the purp, well nigga you can keep the gin

and losin’s not an option nigga, all i do is win

i’m a god fearin’ man, hit my knees when i sin

hot puck, dust my jeans off and go get it in

wake up the next morning to do the same shit again

yea, back to the money, this young nigga hungry

countin’ paper til my hands hurt

nigga, young money bitch

i’m on the inside looking out

at a world that’s full of doubt