Songwriter: Lil Skies
Producer: Al Geno
Lyrics from Snippet
[Intro]
Yeah, gotta bag
Hahaha, okay
Walk in that bitch, pop a tag
Bag, yeah
With a check, nigga I don't lack
No weed, okay
Yeah, ayy
[Verse]
Walk in the trap with a big bag, hol up, this shit look like Fritos
I'm a young nigga, got my cake up, hol up, I don't know bout you, ho
He gon hate on the whole gang, hol up, we gon shoot him like a free throw
Bro gon pass the ball, gimme the assist, Imma make it through the peephole
I done came up from sunlight, one sip, I can show you how to stunt
Really came from the bottom, I done put my gang in the front, now I'm doing what I want
Roll a whole ounce up, we be smokin on the Fronto, it's a opp in the blunt
Did the dash in the whip when we swervin' thru the potholes, gotta watch from the front
Nigga think that he gon play me, hol up, nigga out his mind
Nigga tried to try my gang, we gon blow him up in a mine
Shorty wanna fuck on the team, we put that dick in her spine
I don't really wanna talk to you, that's why I just took my time, yeah
I be really with the family, I don't got time for fake love
Shorty she don't understand me, cause I'm way above they bums
Momma told me get that Grammy, and fuck all those that judge
Give a big bag to my family, go shop and get what you want
I don't got time for nonsense, it don't make sense, so don't bring it up
Niggas livin in a past tense, that's why they racks ain't addin up
I be swervin with a bad bitch, she ain't average, why you mad as fuck?
Stanley Steamer he a savage, you get mad bitch, he gon whack you up
Smokin real Runtz out the p, I give a fuck bout what you think
Man these niggas wanna be like me, when I stunt in my white tee (Oh yeah)
I flex on a bitch I don't care, can't give you my heart, that's rare
He ain't like me, can't compare, don't look at me, nigga don't stare
I'm sorry I'm too icey, I know most niggas don't like me
Why you lookin at me like you wanna fight me
Nigga, I don't know you I'm not with the hype, bitch
Tell a nigga pipe down, cause we're not with the clown shit
[Intro]
Yeah, gotta bag
Hahaha, okay
Walk in that bitch, pop a tag
Bag, yeah
With a check, nigga I don't lack
No weed, okay
Yeah, ayy
[Verse]
Walk in the trap with a big bag, hol up, this shit look like Fritos
I'm a young nigga, got my cake up, hol up, I don't know bout you, ho
He gon hate on the whole gang, hol up, we gon shoot him like a free throw
Bro gon pass the ball, gimme the assist, Imma make it through the peephole
I done came up from sunlight, one sip, I can show you how to stunt
Really came from the bottom, I done put my gang in the front, now I'm doing what I want
Roll a whole ounce up, we be smokin on the Fronto, it's a opp in the blunt
Did the dash in the whip when we swervin' thru the potholes, gotta watch from the front
Nigga think that he gon play me, hol up, nigga out his mind
Nigga tried to try my gang, we gon blow him up in a mine
Shorty wanna fuck on the team, we put that dick in her spine
I don't really wanna talk to you, that's why I just took my time, yeah
I be really with the family, I don't got time for fake love
Shorty she don't understand me, cause I'm way above they bums
Momma told me get that Grammy, and fuck all those that judge
Give a big bag to my family, go shop and get what you want
I don't got time for nonsense, it don't make sense, so don't bring it up
Niggas livin in a past tense, that's why they racks ain't addin up
I be swervin with a bad bitch, she ain't average, why you mad as fuck?
Stanley Steamer he a savage, you get mad bitch, he gon whack you up
Smokin real Runtz out the p, I give a fuck bout what you think
Man these niggas wanna be like me, when I stunt in my white tee (Oh yeah)
I flex on a bitch I don't care, can't give you my heart, that's rare
He ain't like me, can't compare, don't look at me, nigga don't stare
I'm sorry I'm too icey, I know most niggas don't like me
Why you lookin at me like you wanna fight me
Nigga, I don't know you I'm not with the hype, bitch
Tell a nigga pipe down, cause we're not with the clown shit
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