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jag - 848 lyrics
[verse 1: chubby jag]
heard them b-tches snitching, but them b-tches lying
find out it’s the truth, you gon’ hear them b-tches dying
grip the iron, bullets get to flying, f-ck is you b-tches trying
big supplying, you know holmes we got it
f-ck cause you b-tches buying
yea, i get paid like pay-per-view, couple n-ggas i auto bill
i walk in taking everything, that’s what you call a steal
my murder my murder yup, it’s a couple n-ggas i ought to k!ll
i ain’t tripping bout the bodies nope, my n-gga just caught a deal
in other words i’m in and out, stunting on them in your mouth
come and find chubby if you in the drought
n-ggas getting dirty like we in the south
smoke and make money, all i been about
mask and the gat up in the couch
all them goonies up in your house
treating that beef like in and out
clearly you can see boy, you don’t want to f-ck with me boy
i just hope that you can catch them bullets like bruce leroy
g boy, gun in my hoodie i’m on my p boy
i’m rapping, but i’m quick to start trapping and move that d boy
i aim blast, match your career then can’t past with your plain -ss
you just mad, mad cause you see a n-gga on that roof top i’m with dame dash
insane cash couldn’t change jag
cause a n-gga not you with your lame -ss
so chain grab and your dame bag, promoting that flight no plane -ss
chubby, yea just know i’m bout that pick up n-gga gmc
that cali i.d had them n-ggas at the dmv
i pull that heater out, guarantee you see them flee
i’m bout that cash money but i don’t rep ymcmb
nope, i got a mean b-tch, mean whip, money green
me and my n-ggas 50 and floyd, sound like the money team
n-ggas getting funny cream, laughing at you n-ggas holmes
turtle face, long nose, snapping at you n-ggas holmes
yup, if it’s beef, then i’m eating like a couple burgers
you got it i want it, i’m rolling out with a couple burglars
yup, i got a couple cribs, couple hustlers, couple servers
oooh, i’m k!lling this n-gga, feeling like uncle murda
[verse 2: q6]
balling without no budget, got goons ride in that bucket
that gangster sh-t i love it, my young boys go dusting
you fronting on that monkey sh-t, guerrilla n-gga with banana clips
hit 90 on that murder tip, we run you down and let it rip
new coupe with your main chick, got no talk that’s my b-tch
my styles p got d-block, trap talk my flow raw
y’all know that i go stupid, my life is like a movie
i pull up with two groupies, true religions on my gucci
my chain nice, but my diamonds mean
you throwing signs, i’m throwing mine
what’s poppin’ 5?, what it is slime?
salute the g’s that doing time, never took the stand
never dropping dimes, i’m a soldier slim with bg’s
my juveniles toke uzis, p-90’s, two 23’s
black tuck with the red string, mac-11 with the red beam
no sitting swag, i’m putto gone
getting stupid head from my red bone
my philly sh-t with my philly b-tch
150 for a 7 like michael vick
got a hundred k in that duffle bag
i’m sipping slow she doing the (drag?)
got a ounce of gas, i’m rolling it
cung lee we kicks it, crispy boy so gifted
gots to much battle, no (slips in?)
might pull up with the baddest ho, my watchies go pistachio
swagger be on overdose, go ape sh-t like i’m congo
dry snitching that’s sour, pointing fingers you a coward
taliban new chopper, dope related sprinkle powder
get thousands by the hour, hundreds by the minute
pull up in some sh-t that only foreigners invented
they say the boy go do-do, my coupe nelly furtado
drunk yellow diamonds, pinkie ring look like moscato
soft sheer bentley, inside dorrito
red diamonds cajan cut, spicy jalapeño
gone
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