[Chorus: 2 Chainz]
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
Got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle

[Verse 1: Gudda Gudda]
Gudda, pocket full of paper
Back on my garage and try to do something to my neighbors
Pour duce up to the big race, money got me with a big hand
I’m too good, I’m for life, until I’m laying in a ditch day
Pistol in my jeans, don’t make me point it at your big head
Most you n***as is bitch made, my guns look like in 5th grade
I guess to it, I just do it, last track and I just abused it
20-20 vision, I see money and I get to it
20 care in my livers, Imma blow it all at the dice game
Can’t take it with me when I die, that’s why I’m just living my life, man
Wood grain on my steering wheel, pinky ring on my right hand
Twenty thou’ my closet and my pistol on my night stand, I’m Gudda
[Chorus: 2 Chainz]
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
Got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle

[Verse 2: T-Streets]
To the streets I’m on my Gudda shit
With my brother Gudda, we on that Gudda shit
Two two’s on me, don’t make me aim ‘em at you
Rear flaming flat, you’re just a flaming faggot
My money enough, I don’t do some tracking
No moving scrap bitch, but I’m about that action
Rare Bentley, rare chucks, got the redneck cops on my head, fuck
I did jail and I ain’t trying go back
Gave my lawyer ten racks and told a whole lie
East side, that’s where we rap
So don’t make me introduce you to the bottom of the tag
Bitch, I’m Gudda
[Chorus: 2 Chainz]
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
Got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle

[Verse 3: Gudda Gudda]
Okay, I’m Gudda like the balling and the east side is my turf
Air hoes in the tacket, make you whistle like a nerf
I come straight out my own room, pronounce the real n***a at birth
Got my riffle in this rap shit and my left foot on a turf
So Imma mix them both together and Imma play it for what is worth
Hoping for the best, but I prepare for the worst
Mama told me “don’t be scared, so if you’re scared, go to church”
Put the money on your head and prepare for rehearse
We pull a lie from the bottom of the gutter
N***as think they’re fly while I fly in a chopper
Man, I’m laughing at you suckers for the lies that you otter
Imma let these n***as know one more time that I’m Gudda
Bitch, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, Gudda.I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
I’m Gudda, I’m Gudda
Got high the rest of all
Yeah, I got that bottle