Gucci Mane - Trap House Lyrics:
In the trap house, in the trap house
In the trap house, Gucci Mane, check it

Choppa on the floor, pistol on the coach
Hood rich so I never had a bank account
Junkies goin` in, junkies goin` out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house

Money kinda short but we can work it out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house
Bricks goin` in, bricks goin` out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house

I`m tired of sellin` bricks, I wanna go legit
I wonder can I sell 11 mill` like 50 Cent
`Cause platinum ain`t enough, I got too many vices
I love to smoke weed, love to shoot dices

Say my life style extravagant
I talk cash s**t, bitches say I`m arrogant
Well, goddamn Gucci c**kin’ it
But at the same time young hoes be jockin` slim

Gucci ain`t s**t, bitch, I beg your pardon
I`m independent but I`m ballin` like a major artist
I stay high like giraffe, pussy
In my trap house, smokin` rubber kushy

Choppa on the floor, pistol on the coach
Hood rich so I never had a bank account
Junkies goin` in, junkies goin` out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house

Money kinda short but we can work it out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house
Bricks goin` in, bricks goin` out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house

Jumped out the whip, everybody lookin`
Big clouds of smoke but ain`t nobody cookin`
Girl, there go Gucci Mane
I want his autograph `cause I`m his biggest fan

Yellow Humvee with the yellow feet
Yellow diamonds the same color as cheddar cheese
And I`m smokin` on that purple s**t
They call me temp service `cause I`ll work a bitch

Money long like Shaq feet
Runnin` dough like a sprinter at a track meet
I heard he got that soft white
Extended clips make them busters get they mind right

Choppa on the floor, pistol on the coach
Hood rich so I never had a bank account
Junkies goin` in, junkies goin` out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house

Money kinda short but we can work it out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house
Bricks goin` in, bricks goin` out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house

In my trap house watchin` Sports Center
In the kitchen cookin` but I ain`t cookin` dinner
Splash it with the water, whip it, make it harder
17 for `em the same number as Quincy Carter

Say I`m workin` with wit a mill` or better
Married to the game, me and [Incomprehensible] live together
Street smart ni**a, never listen to the teacher
You can catch me in the bathroom smokin` reefer

Prices low like Wal-Mart
Bricks on I-9, get your shoppin` cart
Knee deep in the dope game
I`m not a farmer but I`m known to push them collard greens

Choppa on the floor, pistol on the coach
Hood rich so I never had a bank account
Junkies goin` in, junkies goin` out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house

Money kinda short but we can work it out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house
Bricks goin` in, bricks goin` out
Made a hundred thou` in my trap house

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