Investigation (feat. Big Bank Black)

It's a police investigation said they see me servin' some

Informant leaking information

Why the fuck you snitchin'

I'm in Miami with the Haitians

I don't know what the hatin' for

That's when these nigga went to hate on me

All these niggas hatin' on me

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Every 45 minutes I get a thousand grams off

It's been 45 days and you ain't got a gram off

My jamaican plug snitch with the truck I ran off

Take some from Young Scooter I'll cut your hand off

I know your daddy got the dope but you can't get the bomb off

A thousand bricks in your house what you gotta long for?

Why you buy a thousand pounds if that shit ain't strong bruh

You know kush can't grow no flavors get the fuck from round here

The block is hot and we offin' bombs daily

One wrong move and young niggas going crazy

I didn't have a dad so the streets raised me

I got up and drew up a blue print, no Jay Z

I can get the work off, even if it's hard or soft

Call Steve-o, my nigga here'll whip up a house

And that buyin money on deck, we don't see the cost

We don't do the middle man, where the fuck is your boss

(Hook: Gucci Mane)

It's a police investigation said they see me servin' some

Informant leaking information

Why the fuck you snitchin'

I'm in Miami with the Haitians

I don't know what the hatin' for

That's when these nigga went to hate on me

All these niggas hatin' on me

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

I remember way way way way back

When a nigga first started serving that crack

Had a whole brick yea, 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, you shoulda seen all them junkies

And my grandma kitchen is funky

Mix in that Chiplet street and I'm bunkin'

I'm passing out them bombs, eighth grade I'm stealing corn

Had my re-up in my locker, book bag full of sacks

Pay my sister the 1's and 5's and I'm stacking all them racks

Drop some bread on your bitch now she bent over in my bed

Drop some gwop on your head

Now that red dot on your forehead

I don't trust these niggas, I don't love these bitches

These bitches be sheisty, these niggas be snitchin'

Ran through a hundred pack of collard greens in the kitchen

Don't call my phone unless you tryna spend a 50

I ain't frontin shit, don't ask me

Don't make me fire this pistol and turn this bitch into a track meet

It's a police investigation

I blew smoke in their face, but you gave em' cooperation

(Hook: Gucci Mane)

It's a police investigation said they see me servin' some

Informant leaking information

Why the fuck you snitchin'

I'm in Miami with the Haitians

I don't know what the hatin' for

That's when these nigga went to hate on me

All these niggas hatin' on me

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off

Young nigga get your bomb off, get your bomb off