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lirik lagu got a bag – ij kis

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[verse 1]
on tha bus, got a bag full of weed sh-t
like t.i. – i’m on some g sh-t
sh-t was tough i was broke as f-ck
if i wasn’t hustlin’ i wouldn’t have that beat
if i wasn’t hustlin’ i wouldn’t have sh-t to eat
but i’m still strugglin’ so i pack that heat
a cold mothaf-cka, but i ain’t catch cold feet
as long as i’m alive i can’t complain’
i know fools that rather snort than sell cocaine
ima tell u sumt’hn, that’s the sh-t that k!lls yo soul
the brick is to be flipped not to be sniffed you fool
i’ma tell u how to survive
cuz without knowledge life is suicide
a real man takes care of his family
a real man knows the difference between opponent and enemy
and you may never leave yo house without a strap
cause n-gg-s out there finna tax
but that’s part of the game doe
when it’s aimed at yo head you better stay true
now it’s on you what you put in yo bag
hang with the fools – or get to the school, cuz life is a test
and i came back from the dead twice
never sold out, i got mad stripes
foot on the pedal that’s the fast life
i even speed up at the red lights
hand on the metal that’s the tec life
shoutout darko i land my punchlines like landmines
but yo own n-gg-s will k!ll ya for the correct price
nipsey got left, sebi said right
but we on a mission, it can’t end now
and if i die for a reason then i was dead right

[hook]
got a bag, got a bag, got a bag yeah
whippin the, whippin the, whippin the crack
got a bag, got a bag, got a bag yeah
n-gg-s get mad, cause they gettin’ taxed
got a bag, got a bag, got a bag yeah
all these n-gg-s tryna pop a xan
i’m finna get my whole crew poppin’ tags

[verse 2]
ye n-gg-, we pop tags, like we pop fake n-gg-s
all my life i been close to triggas
all my life i been close to drugs
all my life i had to thug
i rap about it cause i live it
u talk ’bout smokin’ but u never hit it
i talk about my emotions ’cause i feel ’em
you flex on ur exes cuz you miss ’em
i’m tryna make a change, you do this for the fame
you think it’s all fun, ye let’s play a game
u n-gg-s loco, i’m more like cj
claim to be a og, you not even a bg
so i have to knocc you out like cool j
or stab you to death that’s word to oj
then take yo f-ckin’ chains black
cash it in, that’s a complete bag
you p-ssy n-gg-s need protection
hit my dms for features but there’s no connection
you talk ’bout pullin’ the smith n wesson
but i’m the walkin’ dead, call it resurrection
my lyrics on point and the rhythm is fine
it switches inside, the wickedest mind
i’m really that kind that be defined by the grind
i’m really that kind that won’t ever be signed
end of the month but i still get the check
by the end of this track i’ll make another rack
’cause i’m still a n-gg-, rest in peace to eazy
all this hustlin’ got me feelin’ so bizzy
so who want a bag?, who want a bag?/
you want a bag? you want a bag?, you got a bag
sold!
only my lord can tell who dies
so pick up the puzzle pieces and put it together of our lives

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