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lirik lagu $wagged out – ai

[verse 1: next level]
check my persona b-tch i’m hotter than a sauna
got em’ sweatin’ me but never disrespectin’ me
cus’ if you try me your face meeting pavement
no motherf-cking patience, cus’ now days n-ggas be fakin’
(see me) my n-ggas be puttin’ leaves in them bags like they rakin’
blazin’ marijuana smoke, purple, sour, exotic, dro
ill -ss n-gga, sick whip and its sittin’ low
checking my phone asking these hoes what its hittin fo?
but i can bag a bad b-tch with no cash in my pocket
never spend my cash on a bopper
she just like being with a real n-gga who d-ck her down proper
matter of fact i might have her -ss take me shoppin’
no need for a thousand dollar blazer to impress
with a 10 dollar tee i can be best dressed
f-ck that hollywood sh-t, i’m breaking trends
let a real n-gga get rich and count ends
next level baby ima’ show em’ how it’s done
this everyday life i just do this sh-t for fun
keep goin, no stopping like a bus route
i just stay swagged, the f-ck out

[hook]
swagged the f-ck out
(i’m swagged)
swagged the f-ck out
(i’m swagged)
swagged the f-ck out
(i’m swagged)
swagged the f-ck out
(i’m swagged)
swagged the f-ck out
(i’m swagged)
swagged the f-ck out
(i’m swagged)
swagged the f-ck out
(i’m swagged)
swagged the f-ck out
(i’m swagged)

[verse 2: john broks]
bring the drugs i’m cool as f-ck
pop a molly, get f-cked up
f-ck swag! f-ck swag?
you hypebeast n-ggas is lame as f-ck
ratchet hoes self-t-tled “bad b-tch”
ironic, sad sh-t, that’s like callin pcp “angel dust”
you p-ssy -ss n-ggas can’t hang with us
i don’t owe you sh-t n-ggas fame-o-us
in god i trust
so ima’ put a bible on the dash
befo’ i bust a n-gga -ss for this cash
but i never pull off fast, gotta show my -ss
but let me get off that hood sh-t
a lil cavalli have a b-tch thinkin i’m hood rich
but i don’t even want that hood chick
i need a artsy tumblr ho so i can tongue the ho

[bridge]
50k on my wrist that’s swag b-tch
sit back lane switch with a bad b-tch
put a snarl on my lip as i grab my d-ck
cus’ im the type of n-gga never had sh-t

[verse 3: john brooks]
pretty mother f-cker i don’t need to change my name
my crib is a zoo got plenty b-tches that’s tamed
b-tch my lil sister pinky got more swag
your favorite b-tch? already had got past
about to blast, on these phony n-ggas think they trill
n-gga step to the plate ima’ make u my meal
i’m hoc bout to give this b-tch some “d” from a “g” don’t mind me
i’m just sittin getting money, got all these bithces running to me
she let me hit it from the back cus’ i never do that frontin’

[hook]

[verse 4: big yi]
im sharper than a motherf-ckin’ spear
motherf-ckin’ martian how im up outta here
lil mamma -ss like a motherf-ckin’ pear
she want this wood on there like timber
her man got his hands together
like he bout to f-ckin cheer or whatever
but i ain’t even gone sweat her
polo stable no need for a dresser
damier, louis v, swag on od, hoes know who i be (i be)
they be on me, on my jock
tell em hop, hop up off my c-ck
marijuana trees, on the f-ckin’ socks
never catch a n-gga slippin wit’ a knot
n-gga naw, (ha) never catch me slippin with the guap
cus’ im on my mission to the top
used to be on the bench now im at the top spot
and the hoes love a n-gga that start
so i tell a b-tch straight from the start
im a cool n-gga, cold heart, tear her feelings apart
so let me let ya know this
cold wrist mouth on froze b-tch, so all i speak is g sh-t
want a real n-gga i’m who to be wit’
no nintendo no we (wii ) b-tch
im solo dolo, smoking on that dojo
nappy fro doe’, on my ponyo
green midget, puffin on that yoda
take that zing put it in the soda
i’m throwed, no floater
if i play my cards right i might poker
black mixed with chico, call her miss mocha
the end getting closer, hol’ up

- ai

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