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lirik lagu duffle bag – d&w

[intro: xeno fiji]
ayy, yeah
skrrt, skrrt
yeah
y’all ready?

[chorus: xeno fiji]
racks in the duffel bag
glock came with a muzzle, ayy
b*tch, i’m goin’ ape, shootin’ out the escalade
b*tch, i’m tryna swerve, i might buy another wraith
smokin’ on that sherm, feels like i’m in outer sp*ce
i keep that .45 on me
we ’bout that beef, we gon’ turn you salami
i keep that ho right beside me
suckin’ my d*ck, now she lookin’ like kylie
heat tucked, and we always shootin’ it sideways
whip so big, i can’t fit it in the driveway

[verse 1: dw destroyer]
don’t f*ck with the norms, we the renegades
we kept doing our own thing, now we run the game
y’all some clones, neptunes, y’all don’t got no f*cking shame
my bro f*cked up, he juiced off on the pink lemonade
spent a thousand, made it back
duffel bag, full of racks
working hard to get some plaques
off of the bars you lack
finally doing and getting all the sh*t i wanted since i was like fifteen
finally getting bags, bagging who i want, f*ck too good, make my b*tch scream
copping some vetements, i’m on go
stacking dead presidents, counting them rolls
you got poor taste, you can keep your ho
i ain’t bagging sh*t but this tied up dough
run it back, to when all our sh*t was wack
wwe, if gon’ you talk down, you get smacked (smack, smack, smack)
(haha)
[verse 2: xeno fiji]
it’s lil fiji on the scene
keep a toolie in my joggers, it get tricky with the beam
tryna play with us, we gon’ turn his sh*t to make believe
and my pants sagging ’cause i got them rackies in my jeans
i just popped a half a bean
gettin’ faded every night, you ain’t half as high as me
and you always sending shots, what you trying to achieve?
got a snub nose on the stick, i feel like usopp with a beam
i’ve been going harder than i ever been
suv i been swervin’ in
feelin’ just like the president
hop inside the stu’ ’cause you know i had to get it in
i ain’t ever been too hesitant
b*tch, i’m from h*ll, ain’t heaven sent
beat the p*ssy up like it’s tekken
i be talkin’ the same sh*t until these b*tches start to get the message
i murder every beat i’m on, man, somebody better call up the reverent
i’m ridin’ in a demon, smoking on angel dust, man, this sh*t a blessing, uh
i turn your sh*t into a tragedy
throw ’em in that bird box and they won’t see whats happening
throw them stacks all in the club and they gon’ throw ’em back at me
everything cash, no way they taxin’ me
’cause i got them*

- dw

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