lirik lagu packin – the brazy bunch, a-wax & king iso
[verse 1: a*wax]
hold up, you can’t tell me no, but tell your friends to do the opposite
don’t tell n0body, but i snuck a pole on board a private jet
every loaf i see, i think “why ain’t you in my pockets yet?”
cemetery full of people, ain’t respect the politics
i just wanna put it in her mouth, this b*tch too talkative
them k!llers, i’ma put ’em on your house until you pop up there
sometimes i be thinking this twelve burping when my diamonds glare
found a homie [?] commissary, out
cheesy rice and ramen for a month or two
i got some opps in jail, better gеt off if you running to ’em
big ‘ol stack of blues, i ain’t count ’em, i’m just thumbing through ‘еm
sh*t was between us until that drug i sent a bone or two
[?] on that syrup and exotic [?]
if you so supportive of your homies, why you knock ’em then?
if it’s really up, what’s your location on it then? drop a pin
b*tch i’m popping ops, not no xanays or [?]
[chorus: king iso]
drip, check, bl!ck, check
that b*tch, check, i’m getting checks
drip, check, bl!ck, check
that b*tch, check, i’m getting checks
check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check
check, check, check, check, check check, i run up a
check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check
check, check, check, check, check, check
[verse 2: king iso]
you can’t tell me no b*tch, your best friend would do the opposite
mask up like a non*obmissive, you don’t respect politics
i got two hoes kissing, one on top, other my bottom b*tch
my young boys will turn a n*gga block into the gaza strip
my guys just walked in the strip club and i bought a b*tch
swear to god, my drip get big way more than a bottom lip
bit f*gged off, told her “hold this l” and gave her a hockey stick
now back to this filet mignon and lobster bisk
n*gga thought he cool with everyone, i told ’em “box the bl!ck”
pull up game like abs or a p*rn site how i pop up quick
been a shooter since running with a page [?]
running with that mac since macintosh took a floppy disk
that hoe wanna f*ck me while she talking sh*t, aye, aye
told her “use the throat and use a lot of spit”, aye, aye
all that fake quarterbacking got him blitzed, aye, aye
this ain’t football, pack ’em out with soccer kicks
[chorus: king iso]
drip, check, bl!ck, check
that b*tch, check, i’m getting checks
drip, check, bl!ck, check
that b*tch, check, i’m getting checks
check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check
check, check, check, check, check check, i run up a
check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check
check, check, check, check, check, check
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