It’s said that art mirrors life. In hip-hop’s case, there’s always been a deliberate entanglement of perception and reality. Fans demand their MCs be real…but never too real. Successful hip-hop is about the hint of the danger, the tease of it, the mystique. Hip-hop is about balance.
Gucci Mane is an artist striving for that balance, volatility versus musicality. Controversy, including a feud with former collaborator Young Jeezy, has grabbed the headlines, with insufficient regard paid to his considerable mic skills, raw talent, and business acumen. Gucci is looking to wrest his name from public speculation and let his own words do the talking.
“I wish everybody well who’s making money in this rap game,” the Atlanta-raised rapper says, dismissing the controversy that followed him in the past. “My own rap game is going so good, I’ve got so many things on my plate at my label, that I don’t got time for other people’s business.” With a deal with Asylum Records as the boss of his own label, So Icey Entertainment, Gucci does indeed have a full schedule with no time to dwell on the past.
“I live my life with no regrets. I just wish that a lot of things never happened, but anybody can wish,” says Gucci. Sounds like a man with his eyes on the prize. And you’d expect nothing less from an artist who ground his way to the top via the hustle of independent records. Signing to Big Cat Records in the wake of his local single “Black Tee,” he dropped his debut record, Trap House, in May 2005. The independent album moved an impressive 140,000 units, largely on the strength of the “Icy” single, featuring Jeezy. Clamor over song rights sparked dispute, and the resulting rift grew.
Controversy notwithstanding, Mane’s independence was cemented: “I was on the independent scene for about two years,” he recalls. “It’s crazy! You gotta go into your own pocket to support your craft. You need other avenues to have money coming in, to support your stuff. You might win, you might lose, and it’s a gamble out there with the independent circuit. One thing you’d better have is good music because without that, you go downhill fast in the independent game.”
Good music firmly in hand, Gucci was fast approaching stardom when more tragedy befell him. But let’s backtrack; how did the man born Radric Davis in Bessemer, Alabama, become Gucci Mane, mouthpiece for Atlanta stuntin’? Mane remembers little from his time in Alabama, just that it was rural, and that it’s changed dramatically since he left at the age of nine. “I gotta shout out Alabama though, because they holdin’ it down,” he affirms. “Every time I go there to do a show, I’m impressed with how hip-hop culture has taken root.”
Mane’s identity coalesced when he moved with his mother to Atlanta. “I lived all of my adolescent and adult life in Atlanta,” he explains. “I’m from East Atlanta Zone Six; it was hard, man, it was real rough. I grew up in the Starter jacket era: they’d take your Starter jacket, your 8Ball jacket, they’d take your hat, your shoes. It was just no holds barred on the streets, dog eat dog. If you missed the bus, you had to be crewed up or you’d get jumped. It was wild when I came up.”
It’s a bleak portrait. When asked to describe his home life more vividly, Mane offers a look into his contemplative side, a side honed as a schoolyard poet. “I was just a young dude in a single parent house most of my life. I can’t complain that much. I would guess it’s like any black child growing up in a single parent household. There are a lot of people who know how that is. I didn’t have a lot coming up; but what I did have, I appreciated. I was blessed to have a caring mother to raise me right and to help me with my business ventures; she’s been there through the whole struggle. There’s a lot that goes along with that; it made me who I am today.”
A stepfather would enter the picture during Mane’s adolescence, introducing not only a male figure, but also inspiration for Mane’s unusual moniker. “My father came in, the original Gucci Mane; that’s what people in the neighborhood called him, and that’s where I get my name from. From then on, I grew up the son of a hustler and a schoolteacher; it was the best of both worlds because I was educated twice.” Drawing inspiration from a pantheon of rappers before him –Big Daddy Kane, LL Cool J, Ice Cube, the Beastie Boys, N.W.A—Mane went on to release Trap House, a lethal brew of his signature sound: “I call my music straight Gucci: going hard and whatever beats you make you for me, if I’m feeling it, if I’m rocking with it, I’m gonna crush it. When you hear me, you hear a lot of pain, a lot of hood; you hear what’s going on in the inner city in Atlanta.”
Unfortunately, Trap House was ill timed; the month of its release, Gucci was accused of murder and jailed for two days. Eventually deemed to be acting in self-defense, and without sufficient evidence to hold him, Mane was exonerated. But the ordeal left an indelible imprint on the man. “I learned to keep better company, watch where I go, and be mindful of my surroundings at all times,” he reveals. “Watch what I say, watch what I do and how I do it, just keep myself out of the wrong crowd.”
“I always stand up man,” he continues. “I’m one of the toughest guys I know. It’ll take a lot more than that to break me down.” Undeterred, Mane was back in the studio, preparing 2006’s eerily apropos Hard To Kill. The buzz from Hard To Kill vaulted Gucci Mane from regional commodity to national treasure, and major labels responded accordingly: “There was a bidding war going on, and I liked Atlantic’s approach. They made it known that they wanted me, they felt where I was going and that I could grow with them.”
Asylum/Atlantic Records welcomed Gucci Mane in early ’07, granting him his own imprint, So Icey Entertainment. With it comes an entire stable of artists, the So Icey Boyz. As the Boyz ready for their own exposure –“I got them in training; they be in the weight room, pumping iron, doing pushups, shopping at the mall, buying ice”—Gucci is focused on his magnum opus, Back to the Trap House. “I started working on the album, and by the third song, I was like ‘This is going back to the Trap House.’ I started feeling the same way I did when I made my first album. It had the same feel to it, the same freshness. And I had the same hunger and desire I had when I first started rapping.”
“Since I went major, I want everybody to know I’m still keeping it street, keeping it hood,” Gucci maintains. “I’m trying to take it back to all my fans that I had when I first started my career. And at the same time, I’m trying to open up my new album to a new fan base. So it’s a mix for everybody coming together, like my first album was.” Gucci has always prided himself on his innate ability, and his refusal to let guest appearances dictate the tone of his records. “I just want people to know I’m a great songwriter, man,” he asserts. “I’m passionate about what I do, and it’s choreographed strategically when I do it. I bring a lot of experience, creative wordplay, and a crazy style. And my albums, I record most of the songs without writing them down; it’s a God-given gift and I just get paid for it. It come from God, it’s like wondering what makes a bird fly. He made me a poet like the great poets of the past.”
But don’t mistake Gucci’s confidence for self-absorption. The vicissitudes of his career have dictated a longer view. Lyrics aside, he’s less preoccupied with visible means and more so with acting as an emissary from his under-repped block. “I’m not the one to glorify what goes on in the hood,” he insists. “We have everything there, the whole range from violence to people getting on the bus and going to work. There’s a lot more to the hood than just drugs. It’s a bigger story, there’s a big picture. I went to school in that neighborhood, I worked there, I trapped there, I hustled there, and I got my name there. I’m proud to be from East Atlanta Zone Six, and I claim there. I hold that on my back and carry that, to be the first one from there to really rock.”
And Gucci’s professional aims have matured as well. While other rappers stress platinum plaques, Gucci hasn’t forgotten the route he took to stardom. “I made a lot of CDs on my own. People fucked with me and supported me, and just made me the man I am today. That’s my blueprint right there, and I stay mindful of it. So now, my only concern is that people feel my music; at the end of the day, I do it for people to feel it. If one person feel it, two people feel it, I feel like my job’s been done.”
Fortunately for Gucci, he should be prepared to welcome an army of new fans with Back to the Trap House. But longstanding fans shouldn’t fear; they’ll recognize “Freaky Gurl,” reprised from its previous appearance from Hard To Kill. Luda, upon hearing the joint, asked for a guest spot on the remix. Said remix now appears as the lead single on Back to the Trap House, following in Gucci’s theme of mating old and new. Over a bouncing, meandering beat from Cyber Sapp, the two cook up the requisite concoction of whips, chips, and chicks. Also look out for “Bird Flu,” the album’s number two single, laced by New-York based Supa Sonics. Elsewhere, firm guest verses from Rich Boy and Pimp C of UGK round out Gucci’s regional flavor, while Bay-area producer Zaytoven (of “Icy” renown) locks down Gucci’s West Coast appeal.
Gucci Mane has something for everyone, and with the struggles of the past in his rearview, Gucci is settled in for his ride to the top. “I’m best known for controversy but I’m trying to gain respect as a songwriter and entertainer. I plan to hit them so hard with this album; who knows what the future will bring. I’ll be banging them out till I can’t bang no more.”
Roll in Peace
Gucci Mane Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
We no game
We no game
We no game
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit (we no game)
In the kitchen with a lot of white (white)
I done fucked a lot of niggas' wife (smash)
Make a milli, then I make it twice (M's)
Bought that Wraith and had the ceilin' light (Wraith)
I like a bitch with some cellulite (ooh)
Tape a brick to her, take a flight (ooh)
Used to ask what the lick was like (where?)
Now I'm askin' what the Lear look like (huh?)
Niggas copy, Mike Tyson bite (ahh-urr, ahh-urr, ahh)
Smokin' cookie, yeah, that's dynamite (cookie, woo)
Lamborghini, white on white (Lamborghini)
All these diamonds, yeah, they white on white (white)
Takin' chances, had to roll the dice (aye)
Send my shooters, come and take your life (brrt)
Born with it
Count a hundred thousand start snowin' with it (hundred)
Go and get it
Thirty round clip tear off a arm or ligament (rrah)
Bitch I'm O-Dog from Menace (urr)
You trappin' hard for pennies (go)
Hop in the frog, it's tinted (skrrt)
Askin' the Lord, forgive me (hey)
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit (we no game)
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit (we no game)
We know gang
Pop me a missile (ayy)
Take me a picture (flash)
Get right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)
Lit like Christmas (like Christmas)
White like tissue (white)
Drank too official (drank)
Cut like scissors (cut)
Boy got wisdom (wisdom)
Fuckin' on vixens (smash)
Whole gang itchin' (itch)
Fuckin' with the wrong one, trippin'
Thirty round extension for the tension (brrt)
Hundred round drum, listen
Fuck around and end up missin' (brrt)
Get 'em knocked off for a ticket
Have my young nigga do the sentence
Aw man, whip up the white, Wendy
Pick up the pipe, and she get no penny (nope)
Rockstar livin' life, Lenny
You can do better, never settle
Keep a Beretta, case of the pressure (brrt)
I tell the plug mail 'em
Which way? Dat way, tell 'em, ayy
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit (we no game)
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit
Ball player shit (we no game)
Man it's Gucci Mane the Goat
'Cause I'm at these rappers throats
I'm like Scarface on a banana boat, I'm tryna keep afloat
Yeah it's Wop the Guwopster
I live like a mobster
Eat shrimp and lobster
I flew in with the chopper
Breaking bread that's my breakfast
Two bitches I'm so selfish
I wanna cut her off
Her head too good it got me helpless
Ya should feel embarrassed
I just touched down in Paris
My homie said he single but his side bitches are married
Save some for the drummer though
Give some to the DJ
I feel this my summer
So I'm throwing cash in Privé
Flush it on the freeway
I cash but not 3k
Countin' cash for three days and all my pussy's prepaid
The opening lines of "Roll in Peace" by Gucci Mane, "We no game," and "Ball player shit," repeated several times throughout the song, set the tone of the track. "We no game" is a play on words that could mean both "We are not playing" and "We are not part of a gang." The phrase could be interpreted in different ways, depending on the context. The following line, "Ball player shit," means that Gucci Mane and his crew live like professional athletes, living the high life without playing by the rules of society.
The verse then goes on to list several things that Gucci Mane has achieved, including making millions of dollars, buying a Wraith with a light-up ceiling, and having a preference for women with cellulite. He brags about being successful and respected, asking what a private jet looks like rather than worrying about what he will eat next. He also raps about living a dangerous lifestyle, taking risks, and being unafraid to kill his enemies using his shooters if necessary.
The chorus repeats the same phrases as the opening lines, emphasizing the message of the song: Gucci Mane and his crew are not part of a gang, but they live like ball players. The song concludes with Gucci Mane boasting about his wealth, success, and good life, using vivid imagery and wordplay to keep his audience engaged.
Line by Line Meaning
We no game
We are not playing around; we are serious
Ball player shit
Living a luxurious life like a professional athlete
In the kitchen with a lot of white (white)
Cooking cocaine in the kitchen
I done fucked a lot of niggas' wife (smash)
Had sex with many married women
Make a milli, then I make it twice (M's)
Earned a million dollars and then doubled it
Bought that Wraith and had the ceilin' light (Wraith)
Bought a Rolls Royce Wraith with a custom lighted ceiling
I like a bitch with some cellulite (ooh)
I am attracted to women with curves
Tape a brick to her, take a flight (ooh)
Taping cocaine to a woman and flying with it
Used to ask what the lick was like (where?)
I used to inquire about illegal activities
Now I'm askin' what the Lear look like (huh?)
Now I am inquiring about private jets
Niggas copy, Mike Tyson bite (ahh-urr, ahh-urr, ahh)
People copy me like Mike Tyson's signature bite
Smokin' cookie, yeah, that's dynamite (cookie, woo)
Smoking strong marijuana
Lamborghini, white on white (Lamborghini)
White Lamborghini with white interior
All these diamonds, yeah, they white on white (white)
My diamonds are also white
Takin' chances, had to roll the dice (aye)
Taking risks in life
Send my shooters, come and take your life (brrt)
Sending my hitmen to kill you
Born with it
I was born with a talent for making money illegally
Count a hundred thousand start snowin' with it (hundred)
Counting a hundred thousand dollars and then starting to spend it lavishly
Go and get it
Working hard to make money
Thirty round clip tear off a arm or ligament (rrah)
My gun has a thirty bullet magazine capable of doing severe damage
Bitch I'm O-Dog from Menace (urr)
I am like O-Dog, the character from the movie 'Menace II Society'
You trappin' hard for pennies (go)
You are working hard for little money
Hop in the frog, it's tinted (skrrt)
Getting into my tinted luxury car
Askin' the Lord, forgive me (hey)
Praying for forgiveness for my sins
Pop me a missile (ayy)
Shooting a rocket launcher
Take me a picture (flash)
Pose for a photograph
Get right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)
I am going to make things right
Lit like Christmas (like Christmas)
I am lit like a Christmas tree with lights
White like tissue (white)
My drugs are white like paper tissue
Drank too official (drank)
I am drinking expensive alcohol
Cut like scissors (cut)
My diamonds are cut perfectly
Boy got wisdom (wisdom)
I am wise and knowledgeable
Fuckin' on vixens (smash)
Having sex with beautiful women
Whole gang itchin' (itch)
My crew is nervous and anxious
Fuckin' with the wrong one, trippin'
You picked the wrong person to mess with
Thirty round extension for the tension (brrt)
My gun has a thirty bullet magazine extension for tense situations
Hundred round drum, listen
My gun has a hundred bullet drum magazine
Fuck around and end up missin' (brrt)
Mess with me and you might disappear
Get 'em knocked off for a ticket
Pay me and I will have someone killed
Have my young nigga do the sentence
My young crew member will go to jail for me
Aw man, whip up the white, Wendy
Chef Wendy, cook cocaine
Pick up the pipe, and she get no penny (nope)
I do not pay for sex
Rockstar livin' life, Lenny
Living like a rockstar
You can do better, never settle
You can achieve greater things, do not settle for less
Keep a Beretta, case of the pressure (brrt)
I carry a gun for protection
I tell the plug mail 'em
I tell my drug supplier to mail me the goods
Which way? Dat way, tell 'em, ayy
Head that way, tell them to follow me
Man it's Gucci Mane the Goat
I am Gucci Mane, the Greatest of all Time
'Cause I'm at these rappers throats
I am competing against other rappers and trying to outdo them
I'm like Scarface on a banana boat, I'm tryna keep afloat
I am like Scarface, fighting to stay alive and be successful
Yeah it's Wop the Guwopster
I am Gucci Mane, the Guwopster
I live like a mobster
I live like a member of the Mafia
Eat shrimp and lobster
I eat expensive seafood
I flew in with the chopper
I arrived in a helicopter
Breaking bread that's my breakfast
Making money is my main focus
Two bitches I'm so selfish
I am with two women and do not want to share them with anyone else
I wanna cut her off
I want to break up with one of the women
Her head too good it got me helpless
The woman is so good at oral sex that I cannot resist her
Ya should feel embarrassed
You should feel ashamed of yourself
I just touched down in Paris
I just arrived in Paris
My homie said he single but his side bitches are married
My friend claims to be single but he is seeing married women
Save some for the drummer though
Leave some money for the drummer
Give some to the DJ
Tip the DJ
I feel this my summer
I feel like this is my season to shine
So I'm throwing cash in Privé
I am spending money lavishly at a club called Privé
Flush it on the freeway
I throw drugs out of my car window on the freeway
I cash but not 3k
I have money but not three thousand dollars
Countin' cash for three days and all my pussy's prepaid
Counting money for three days and everything is paid for in advance
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Radric Davis, Quavious Marshall, Kirshnik Ball, Kiari Cephus
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@jreamespinoza
Still a classic
@Cashcrop91
Dude mixing n engineering skills made it sound official af lol
@ericking6698
Cash Crop gzmyte ti mi my
@shawncombs1974
That's a lizzo that's a big faxt #bigHigh5
@christopherrobinson1219
Bro. I didn't know it wasn't. Man this song got me through some ROUGH shit. The fact Takeoff gone is ....ugh
@shadowpenguin93
You Got REAL talent with these mixes man, keep the 🔥🔥🔥 coming
@PatronBA
Thanks bro👊
@shadowpenguin93
Use more background vocals like from your “for everybody” mix. The Travis Adlibs sounded so crisp it was perfect. Do that for the next song, just a suggestion ✌️
@mrp8231
Been known gucci since 2000 he has always been a beast
@deadpoll3141
This shit sick I hope the person who did this gets recognize and makes it BIG If he hasn't already