Gucci Bag

You know me, I'm rollin' with the gucci bag
All these niggas hating, all these niggas kinda sad
If I'm not mistaken, yeah these niggas kinda mad
Don't be getting salty, I got what you wish you had

I pull up with the 40 on me, he just blocked me but I had his fucking shorty on me
You might be bigger but there ain't no fucking scoring on me
And I'm so fly, you ain't gone be soaring on me
I'm a fucking shooter, I'm not boxing
You piss me off, I'ma put you in a coffin
I smoke a nigga but you don't see me coughin
I pull up, and all them bodies droppin'
But let's get back on topic, you think you better my nigga, just stop it
I keep that banger on me, I always cock it, you think you shootin' my nigga, I always block it
Yeah the name is Jago, I shoot fully auto
They think I'm Mexican, they want some beef, I got the tacos
I'm getting all this fucking cheese but I ain't talking nachos
You wanna pull up, go ahead bitch, yeah I got the dracos
All these niggas wanna test, but they failed the test
They got no heart cause I put a bullet in they chest
I'm incomparable, bitch I'm not the same
I do it for the money, I ain't fucking with the fame

(Yeah) I'm outchea in the trenches, always been a starter, I don't fuck with benches
And shout out Kuwait, shout out Fayettenam
Shout out my nigga Mellow cause you know we dropping bombs
I said allahu akbar, had a muslim blow me
I told her pipe up and I had her do it slowly
But then she turned around and fucking told me
She say she need a man and that she's feeling lonely
But then I told the bitch "Shorty I can't fucking do it"
Now get down on them knees and swallow all my fucking fluids
I got a couple niggas, they throwing big C's, and I'm rolling with my niggas throwing big B's
All I take is W's, baby what's an L
I keep that red and green on me like a christmas elf

Gone



Credits
Writer(s): Jago Camacho
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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