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lirik lagu gucci mane & young dolph - investigation

[hook: gucci mane]
it’s a police investigation said they see me servin’ some
informer a leaking information
why the f-ck you snitching
i’m in miami with the haitians
i don’t know what the hate is for
that’s when these n-gga went to hate on me
all these n-ggas hatin’ on me
young n-gga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
young n-gga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
young n-gga get your bomb off, get your bomb off
young n-gga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

[verse 1: young scooter]
every 45 minutes i get a thousand grands out
even 45 days and you get your gram out
my jamaican plug snitch with the truck i ran out
take some from your young scooter i cut your hand off
i know your daddy got the dope but you can’t get the bam out
a thousand bricks in your house why you gotta long for
why you buy a thousand pounds if that sh-t ain’t strong bro
you know kush can grow no flavours get the f-ck around him
them block is high and we off in bum daily
one wrong move and the n-ggas going crazy
i didn’t have a dad so these streets raised me
i got up and drew up in blue print no jay z
i can get a work on, even if it’s hard or something
call steve-o, my n-gga here whip up a house
and that buyin money i don’t get, we don’t see the colour
we don’t do the million man, where the f-ck is your boss

[verse 2: lil duke]
the block is hot and we off them daily
one wrong move and them young n-ggas goin crazy
i didn’t have a dad so the streets raised me
i got up and drew up the blueprint no jay-z (i got up)
i can get the work off even if its hard or soft
call steve bo my n-gga will ? a house
and that bond money on deck we dont see the cost
we don’t do the middleman (uh-uh)
where the f-ck is your boss

[verse 3: big bank]
i remember way way way way back
when a n-gga first off serving that crack
had a whole brick ye i took it
had to call young scooter to cook it
36 ounces all in cookies
all the jays calling my name they lookin’
they want it, they want it, shoulda seen all them junkies
and my grandma kitchen funky
mix in that chiplet street and i’m bunkin’
i’m p-ssing out them bombs, eight grade i’m stealing corn
have my re-up in my locker, book bag full of sacks
pay my sister 1’s and 5’s and them thanking all them racks

[verse 4: young dolph]
drop some bread on your b-tch now she bent over in my bed
drop some gwap on your head
now that red dot on your forehead
i don’t trust these n-ggas, i don’t love these b-tches
these b-tches be sheisty, these n-ggas be snitch
ran through a hundred pack collared greens in the kitchen
don’t call my phone unless you tryna spend 50
i ain’t frontin sh-t don’t ask me
don’t make me fire this pistol and turn this b-tch into a trek meat
it’s a police investigation
i blue smoke in their face, but you better cooperation

- lirik lagu gucci mane young dolph

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