lirik lagu in my bag – boss blaze
[chorus: boss blaze]
they said i did this, they said i did that
i wish they would just get off my d*ck
i been wit’ my b*tch, she gettin’ my cash, broke n*ggas lookin’ all sick
i flooded my wrist, got in my bag, i won’t let a n*gga hold sh*t
plenty more clips, plenty more mags, plenty mo’ guns wit’ them sticks
sh*t could get real, n*gga don’t panic, hitters pull up and they damage
we get to blammin’, he hit the canvas, they gon’ be callin’ his parents
rollin’ wit’ shotters, don’t want no problems, big homie throwin’ like roger’s
we hit ’em, he holla’, my semi gon’ send him to heavenly father
[verse: boss blaze]
free bro, free moose
when this sh*t get hot don’t be callin’ no truce
wit ya lil’ deuce deuce
tell me if you see a opp is you really gon’ shoot?
b*tches on our west, if a n*ggas talk hot, i’ma hit ’em in his chest
split his chain wit’ a tec, say “f*ck ds” take his head from his neck
we ain’t playin’ where i’m from, gave broski the ‘k, tol’ n*gga, “go dumb”
k!llin’ opp sh*t fun, get up on ’em, close range so that n*gga don’t run
pop out, hit ’em up, chest, face
glock out, man these n*gga ain’t safe
dt tryna crack that case
tay*k, b*tch i did that race
ran it up on my own, that’s fact
want some? headshot, hold that
‘lotta clips like i’m on snapchat
do a hit, tell the opps get back
put a bullet in his mouth, tic tac
tryna beef wit’ the squad, mismatch
run up on ’em, all you hear is cl!ck*clack
two shots, push a n*gga sh*t back
[chorus: boss blaze]
they said i did this, they said i did that
i wish they would just get off my d*ck
i been wit’ my b*tch, she gettin’ my cash, broke n*ggas lookin’ all sick
i flooded my wrist, got in my bag, i won’t let a n*gga hold sh*t
plenty more clips, plenty more mags, plenty mo’ guns wit’ them sticks
sh*t could get real, n*gga don’t panic, hitters pull up and they damage
we get to blammin’, he hit the canvas, they gon’ be callin’ his parents
rollin’ wit’ shotters, don’t want no problems, big homie throwin’ like roger’s
we hit ’em, he holla’, my semi gon’ send him to heavenly father
[verse: 2 fbg duck]
don’t try to tweak my brothers, b*tch i send you to meet my brothers
we ain’t got no big homies, b*tch, it was just me and brothers
lately it’s been ’bout gang, you see me, you gon’ see my brothers
n*ggas try flex like they don’t need gang, well b*tch i need my brothers
n*ggas out her sendin’ threats, found out that i f*cked his b*tch now they upset
who want me to come take a ride, i’ma bring my gun, i don’t trust that
bro ‘nem told me, [?]
so i went out and bought me a baby tommy, i ain’t even talkin’ ’bout rugrats
n*gga talkin’ ’bout they gon’ k!ll me all on twitter, i’m like “who does that”
n*gga you was just a fan a week ago, i’m like “where the love at?”
first n*gga, ask a n*gga before we beef is “where yo guns at?”
boy you broke as f*ck, where your funds at
[verse 3: nick blixky]
i’m in my bag, got so many chops, i’ll spin and shoot ’em broad day
all these n*ggas askin’, if they ain’t talkin’ money i don’t give a f*ck what they say
i keep a bl!ck, no i can’t slip, lil’ p*ssy n*ggas showin’ hate
free 22gz, he’ll let it squeeze, for my bro know we gettin’ play
outside, had to count it back up
[?], had to get the stash up
no job, always liked the fast bucks
smokin’ za’, better get your gas up
move wrong, finna let the mag bust
skrtt the rate, told the boys to catch up
f*ck the opps, got extendos
we’ll put a red dot on his face, give ’em dimples
all this b*tch is simple, if i told you i’ll cuff then you know it was a [?]
off the henny wit’ the same gang
and you know we ’bout the violence, ain’t worried ’bout a d*mn thing
get loud, goin’ [?]
and you we in the [?], yeah my n*ggas on the same page
[chorus: boss blaze]
they said i did this, they said i did that
i wish they would just get off my d*ck
i been wit’ my b*tch, she gettin’ my cash, broke n*ggas lookin’ all sick
i flooded my wrist, got in my bag, i won’t let a n*gga hold sh*t
plenty more clips, plenty more mags, plenty mo’ guns wit’ them sticks
sh*t could get real, n*gga don’t panic, hitters pull up and they damage
we get to blammin’, he hit the canvas, they gon’ be callin’ his parents
rollin’ wit’ shotters, don’t want no problems, big homie throwin’ like roger’s
we hit ’em, he holla’, my semi gon’ send him to heavenly father
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