[Intro: Gucci Mane & Meek Mill]
Gucci
Meek Milly
From ATL to Philly, n***a
Real recognize real
Yeah, we hood rich bitch
Trap God, turn us up

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
I'm a money getting n***a
At least, that's just what I'm known for
You better call on my connect
And ask him what he put me on for
I heard y'all n***as ballin'
Then why the fuck you take a loan for?
Better get the fuck out East Atlanta
You n***as know you don't belong there
All my n***as smoking strong here
We don't talk reckless on the phone here
A lot of cliques don't get along here
Bricksquad my nig, we rock our own gear (Squad)
I'm on the grass, sitting on the lawn chair
I hope that you don't read me wrong
But if I go pull out that tone there
I bet that you don't make it home
I'm in the trap house with my long johns
And I been trapping all day long (Skrt!)
They call me Baking Soda Armstrong
Before it dry, that shit be gone
[Chorus: Gucci Mane and Meek Mill]
I'm a money getting n***a
(Money getting n***a)
At least, that's just what I'm known for
(That's just what I'm known for)
You better call up my connect
(My connect)
And ask him what he put me on for
(What he put me on for)
I heard y'all n***as ballin'
(Ballin)
Then why the fuck you take a loan for?
(Loan for)
(You better stay up out of Philly, n***a
You know you pussies don't belong here)

[Verse 2: Meek Mill]
Rose gold on my bottom six
Half a mill on foreign whips
I'm in the wheel with a foreign bitch
I'm on the bra strap, and she on this dick
Just bow down, you lame
Your diamonds look strange
I'm grinding like Wayne
When he on that skateboard, I'm saying
N***a your new girl's my old bitch
My old bitch your new girl
Young lil rich Philly n***a
Them hoes tell me I'm too thorough
I don't even fuck one on one
Cause when I come, I need two girls
That's down to fuck like all night
Give them bitches that hard pipe
Riding with with a ho named Keisha
And we smoking on Keisha
Young n***a fresh like Easter
Blood dripping on my sneakers
Straight drop, I stick that
I sell a brick, I get back
That Molly look like a Tic Tac
And I tell that ho that I get it back like 'Whoa'
[Chorus: Gucci Mane & Meek Mill]
I'm a money getting n***a
(Money getting n***a)
At least, that's just what I'm known for
(That's just what I'm known for)
You better call up my connect
(My connect)
And ask him what he put me on for
(What he put me on for)
I heard y'all n***as ballin'
(Ballin)
Then why the fuck you take a loan for?
(Loan for)
(You better stay up out of Philly, n***a
You know you pussies don't belong here)

[Verse 3: Gucci Mane]
I drop a bag on your head, n***a
And they'll locate your ass like OnStar
I ain't have to buy shit, n***a
My n***a Waka got his own car
You on my dick like you a bitch, n***a
Why don't you go and quote your own bars?
And I don't want to go back to jail, n***a
But you gon' make me catch one more charge
I could look and tell you're frail n***a
But you keep on tryin' to look hard
Your friends keep asking "What's the smell, n***a?"
That's your motherfucking homeboys
[Chorus: Gucci Mane & Meek Mill]
I'm a money getting n***a
(Money getting n***a)
At least, that's just what I'm known for
(That's just what I'm known for)
You better call up my connect
(My connect)
And ask him what he put me on for
(What he put me on for)
I heard y'all n***as ballin'
(Ballin)
Then why the fuck you take a loan for?
(Loan for)
(You better stay up out of Philly, n***a
You know you pussies don't belong here)