Gucci Mane & T-Pain – Lit (feat. Steve Aoki) (On Jimmy Kimmel) (Live)

Gucci
[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
I’m ballin’ out, so you know it’s me
Hanging in the street, yeah
If you’re feelin’ like me, I guarantee it’s about to get lit
Listen here, I just made 20 thousand disappear
But the hands go up to the ceilin’
I guarantee it, I guarantee it, I guarantee that I’m the shit
Who wanna chill with a rich nigga?
I was born for this shit, you too borin’ for the bitch

I’m tryna live, tryna hit Club Liv and spend a mil
If you’re feelin’ like me, I guarantee it’s about to get lit
I just pulled up to the front, trunk in the rear
Plus my outfit sick with it just like E-40 and the clique
[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
See it clear, crystal clear
Can’t wait to pay your bills
Long as y’all gettin’ lit (Yeah)

I’m so spoiled, she don’t get naked, it’s hard for me to tip
Oh no, they don’t see me
Can’t wait to pay your bills

I guarantee it, I guarantee it, I guarantee it, I guarantee it
I’m throwin’ money in the VIP
Yellow Rollie on my wrist, same color my yellow bitch
I’m throwin’ money in the VIP
I guarantee it, I guarantee it, I guarantee it, I guarantee it
All of y’all tryna do our shit, you just soundin’ like karaoke (Huh?)
Yellow Claw gettin’ lit (Ha)
It’s Gucci Mane in this bitch, and yeah, it’s lit, hella lit
I’m ballin’ out, so you know it’s me
I be hangin’ in the street, oh lord
In the foreign, motor roarin’, sittin’ on Forgis with a kit
Hanging in the street, yeah
Just like these diamonds in my ear
They don’t see me
Yeah, boy, you gettin’ that T-Pain and Aoki (Gucci)
Oh no, they don’t see me
Your girl’s drawers comin’ down
I guarantee it, I guarantee it, I guarantee that I’m the shit
I be hangin’ in the street, oh lord
Long as y’all gettin’ lit, let’s go
They tell me, baby you’re a boy makin’ big noise
Your girl’s drawers comin’ down
I’m tryna live, tryna hit Club Liv and spend a mil
They tell me, baby you’re a boy makin’ big noise
I’ma put that top [?] shit in your ear, listen here
I’m so hard, got ’em runnin’ and I just put in the tip
But the hands go up to the ceilin’
[Intro: T-Pain & (Gucci Mane)]
[Chorus: T-Pain]

They don’t see me
I say I ain’t got no type, but I prefer ’em super thick

[Chorus: T-Pain]
Who wanna chill with a rich nigga?