Bag Talk
Yeah
Ay fuck Lync Lone, yeah
Bag talkin'
Got the bag talkin'
All these motherfuckers running around flexing shit in public
That shit'll get you robbed, lil hoe
That shit is not your job, lil hoe
That shit is not your hobby
Don't try to act like you out catching bodies
Yuh
I stomp on mud and I get my shoes dirty
The all-white Tommy kicks were looking so purty
The all-black outfit doesn't match em but it's worth it
Ima stash up the Birkin bag for my girlfriend, yuh
My pockets always loaded
But not with money, with dope
Cause all of my money has gone to drugs and it's funny
Cause maybe one day I love it
Then the next day I regret
And then I face a blunt and mase a cunt intending disrespect
I'm on a pace to run a mile in like a minute, so I'm set
Erasing rappers off the face of Earth, I'm just a local vet
Saving commas for highs
Racing past all my lies
I'm adjacent to God
But there's no faith in my eyes
I get to grippin' the cash
Trippin' at last
Sippin' on water, I'm havin' a blast
Rippin' the grass
Tickin' to pass
Dippin' my dick in a thot as I laugh
I could never die
But I could never thrive
So I'm stuck in the middle with blood flooding my eyes
Bag talkin'
Got the bag talkin'
All these motherfuckers running around flexing shit in public
That shit'll get you robbed, lil hoe
That shit is not your job, lil hoe
That shit is not your hobby
Don't try to act like you out catching bodies
Yuh
I stomp on mud and I get my shoes dirty
The all-white Tommy kicks were looking so purty
The all-black outfit doesn't match em but it's worth it
Ima stash up the fuckin' Birkin bag for my girlfriend, yuh
Ay fuck Lync Lone, yeah
Bag talkin'
Got the bag talkin'
All these motherfuckers running around flexing shit in public
That shit'll get you robbed, lil hoe
That shit is not your job, lil hoe
That shit is not your hobby
Don't try to act like you out catching bodies
Yuh
I stomp on mud and I get my shoes dirty
The all-white Tommy kicks were looking so purty
The all-black outfit doesn't match em but it's worth it
Ima stash up the Birkin bag for my girlfriend, yuh
My pockets always loaded
But not with money, with dope
Cause all of my money has gone to drugs and it's funny
Cause maybe one day I love it
Then the next day I regret
And then I face a blunt and mase a cunt intending disrespect
I'm on a pace to run a mile in like a minute, so I'm set
Erasing rappers off the face of Earth, I'm just a local vet
Saving commas for highs
Racing past all my lies
I'm adjacent to God
But there's no faith in my eyes
I get to grippin' the cash
Trippin' at last
Sippin' on water, I'm havin' a blast
Rippin' the grass
Tickin' to pass
Dippin' my dick in a thot as I laugh
I could never die
But I could never thrive
So I'm stuck in the middle with blood flooding my eyes
Bag talkin'
Got the bag talkin'
All these motherfuckers running around flexing shit in public
That shit'll get you robbed, lil hoe
That shit is not your job, lil hoe
That shit is not your hobby
Don't try to act like you out catching bodies
Yuh
I stomp on mud and I get my shoes dirty
The all-white Tommy kicks were looking so purty
The all-black outfit doesn't match em but it's worth it
Ima stash up the fuckin' Birkin bag for my girlfriend, yuh
Credits
Writer(s): Kyle Moran
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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