Iran Lyrics - Gucci Mane | K Shiday

Not going to Iran, I’m not going to Iran
Free all the shootas (Yeah)
Never back down from a man, ni**a, I ain’t never ran

Never back down from a man, ni**a, I ain’t never ran (No, no)
If they book me for the draft, I’m not going to Iran (No)
Call me Gucci Peter Pan, I keep flyin’ to the band (Ah)
I do stunts like Jackie Chan
I just touched down in Japan ([?])
Since they let me out the can, I keep runnin’ up the bands
In the A, where I’m with the sand
I’m so hot, I need a fan (Hot)
I’m so black, can’t get no tan (Ah)
But I feel like I’m the man
I put diamonds in my bands
Ice so cold, can’t feel my hands

I can’t go to work for nobody
Bi**h I got my own bodies (Yeah)
Errybody got a couple skeletons in the closet
Bodies go to droppin’ this only [?]
Me and my ni**as went shoppin’ for choppas (Ah)
Bought bombs and bazookas, is that what you want?
Life of a sniper, pray for my rifle
Pray for my rubber band shooting my [?] (What?)
I don’t go to sleep, I just drink with my Bible
Thinkin’ of bringin’ home [?] survivors
Jump off the towel, money and power
Send me the world but you nothin’ but a coward (Wooh)
[?] named Broward, students at Howard (Yeah)
Play with my life ’cause you feel you in power ([?])
[?] blue eyed eyeball
[?] can’t touch her for hours
Think of my lick, got a stick in my trouser
Real [?] shit, runnin’ the powder
Flack on your casket, get used to seeing flowers
Gucci on bucket, I’m tellin’ you now (Gucci)
I see my opp then I’m gunnin’ him down (Graow)
Tell my lawyer here to start pointin’ him out (Him)

Know what he do, so I keep him around (Him)
Gave him [?] and he don’t say a sound

Never back down from a man, ni**a, I ain’t never ran (No, no)
If they book me for the draft, I’m not going to Iran (No)
Call me Gucci Peter Pan, I keep flyin’ to the band (Ah)
I do stunts like Jackie Chan
I just touched down in Japan ([?])
Since they let me out the can, I keep runnin’ up the bands
In the A, where I’m with the sand
I’m so hot, I need a fan (Hot)
I’m so black, can’t get no tan (Ah)
But I feel like I’m the man
I put diamonds in my bands
Ice so cold, can’t feel my hands

(So icy)
Real shooter been reckless (Uh)
Put them boys on my guest list (Woah)
50 cal on my resume, 1017 on my necklace (Word)
If I slap a mag and put it in the dirt (Yeah)
It’s just automatic reflexes (Woo)
Got two bad bi**hes from Texas (Yeah)
I might slap a hoe if she messy (Ah)
I burn them off for my kids
Damn, I’m legit
Pour the Johnson with the shit (Who?)
I break ’em off like a KitKat
Hard as a brick, ain’t got no time for no kick back
I’m a mother fu**in’ veteran, Obama is my president
Might pull up to your residence
Might fire, bi**h we negligent
Open fire, I might fine ya
Pin the house, might blind ya
Damn my conduct so disorderly
I check the ni**a quarterly
They closin’ up the doors for me
Might slip, my drip too watery
You can blame it on the saucery
Eat a pew, bi**h, take it overly