lirik lagu forgot my bars – teejayx6
[intro]
(marc boomin)
[verse 1]
n*ggas askin’ why my pants saggin’
probably ’cause of this glock .23, i’m never lackin’
b*tch keep callin’, tryna ask what’s our current status
run into your crib like i need everything, rip up the whole mattress
the irs gon’ have to come and get me, i ain’t payin’ taxes
n*ggas workin’ for a job everyday, checkin’ in with master
he was already down, i shot him again, he checked out faster
tell a label come with a hundred million, they can have my masters
[interlude]
d*mn, i just forgot the next bar
what the f*ck i just say?
i just—, no, no, no
what the f*ck i just say?
[verse 2]
none of my plays goin’ through, it is just not my day
you don’t look out for your n*ggas, that is just not okay
n*gga callin’ me his mans and we just met today
you shoppin’ with the wrong n*ggas, you just got your ass laced
your mans might be hatin’ on the low, test him and see if he two*faced
them rolex be too cheap, f*ck the red and blue face
i’m ’bout to get this sh*t sold, i want the green and [?]
i’m ’bout to hop out in the field, let me tie my shoelaces
money comin’ in in bags, it’s like a n*gga printin’ paper
’bout to make some fake ids, i need some ink and printing paper
choke slam a n*gga on his back and beat his ass like [?]
how you want it? i’ll square up with a n*gga and chase him down with a laser
[interlude]
alright, what the f*ck was i ’bout to say again?
i keep forgettin’ my bars
alright, yeah, alright
i got it, i got it
[verse 3]
i’ll make a n*gga beatbox, spotgottem
oh, you need some weed, drank, and percs? pull up, the spot got it
this n*gga said he wanna drive the weed back, just lobby it
remember bein’ twenty deep in the hood just mobbin’
my lil’ n*ggas be slidin’ everyday while they dodgin’
when i get my foot in the industry, i’ma dominate
i got some indoor bowls for 23, but they half shake
shot a n*gga in his right arm, now he half bake
i got on supreme and louis v, the one collab they made
every time a n*gga tell a story, he over exaggerate
it’s crazy, a n*gga will run off over a lil’ pape
but you know i ain’t trippin’ ’cause i still got a full plate
she asked for my number and i gave the b*tch the full eight
throw the glock to my mans, he gon’ pull that b*tch like clay
think i need a money counter, i’ve been countin’ sh*t all day
i done made at least five to ten racks in each state, count that up
[outro]
i keep f*ckin’ forgettin’ my bars
punch me—, no, no, no, don’t punch me in, man
f*ck this—, i’m leavin’, i’m leavin’, man
f*ck this
alright, i’m ’bout to come out there
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