Lyrics of 'Guttaville' by Young Dro

(chorus)
Guttaville. niggas pop, people get killed down in
Guttaville. hustle hard, or broke steel down in
Guttaville. far away from society
Guttaville. i wish the devil would try me.

I'm riding low, white walls on the caddy steel
I'm high as the rocks, all the way to lattyville
Not far from figures stop ask him how yah papi feel
Clean cut? keep the head nappy still
(guttaville), yeah, we broke out here
Peel the road like blunts, when you smoked out there
Imagine takin' the stunt some place where niggas left you
Then they tried to test you, you made them all respect you
See, thats exactly where my people come from
The grind, the audience, the slash and beans come from
We done walked through the stormy weather sleep with my gun
There's a lot of math i don't wanna teach to my son
The hide of rocks, the stove and the beaker be one
See the simple mind will always have to pay a hard price
Where i'm from it's cold, we keep the heater at night
Jay ain't the only one that had to live the hard knocked life.
We from...

(chorus)
Guttaville. niggas pop, people get killed down in
Guttaville. hustle hard, or broke steel down in
Guttaville. far away from society
Guttaville. i wish the devil would try me.

You can die on the corner, come up off a quarter
Place an order, have over easy under some water
You can get whatever you need, 40 ounces and weed
Coca leaves cook in the kitchen, kids play in the streets
15 with heat belt buckles stuck on they knees
Could we disrespect jump and you niggas will bleed
Money, bitches and burnas; cars, beef and the murdas
Trying to change for 'em, just say: fuck 'em, we dirty
Get jacked for your jersey, get that ass shot for your rims
Shooting dice broad daylight, up on kakies and timbs
At the club, niggas 16 deep in the truck
Niggaz talking shit, they ain't strapped, stupid as fuck
Go to the 51 tray, you would see what i mean
You ain't gotta be an actor to get cut from the scene
The roads will spot him, he here for the whole part of him
He don't care, he only stopped, he will ran on your whole block
We from...

(chorus)
Guttaville. niggas pop, people get killed down in
Guttaville. hustle hard, or broke steel down in
Guttaville. far away from society
Guttaville. i wish the devil would try me.

Either kill or be killed, you can be fake or be real
Turn into somebody's meal
My whole section is eight steel
We live of "let's make deals, with killers that take pills"
No marta, we stay real. eat of your meal
Fat, but posted on your god for wantin meal
God, my hood's ill. save 'em,
Working hard nine to five, but wont pay 'em
The lord treat my niggas like roaches. they tryna spray 'em
The government be halling ten fo, they ok and
Black to the future, they tryna back to the day us
The devil never played for oakland, we still raiders
Only god can save us.

(chorus)
Guttaville. niggas pop, people get killed down in
Guttaville. hustle hard, or broke steel down in
Guttaville. far away from society
Guttaville. i wish the devil would try me.