Bag Play Letra

Don't you call the cops, I'm smokin' on that killa
I'm so super lit I can't even fight the feelin'
Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions
Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling

I'm on to bag play
I'm in a great space
Ain't with the fake love, I won't even handshake
The real niggas fuck with me, I'm talkin' the long way
I jump on the beat hungry, I make it a entree

I am not fighting the feeling
I gotta be one of the realest
Really though, one of the illest
Mentally fully committed
Ain't no sauce for the free
Ain't no land of the free
Ain't no hand-out, let me find out, nothing's here for the cheap
I'mma rise to occasion, every time we arrange it
I'm alive, nigga, get in line, still ahead of time with the cadance
No flaws, no flagging
Murder scene, new caskets
Boy, it's feeling like the first time Frank Lucas hit with Blue Magic
God

Oh shit, I think that's them people at the door [Zeek?]
I think we done packed too much gelato in the (?) fool
Yeah, fuck it

Don't you call the cops, I'm smokin' on that killa
I'm so super lit I can't even fight the feelin'
Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions
Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling

I'm on to bag play (yeah, yeah)
I'm in a great space (yeah, yeah)
Ain't with the fake love (no way)
I won't even handshake (no way)
The real niggas fuck with me, I'm talkin' the long way
I jump on the beat hungry, I make it a entree (did that)

Ready or not, fuck if you ready or not
Niggas be talking a lot
Claimin' they hot
"Fuck is you talkin' about?"
Niggas they wanna be 'Pac
You could get shot like him
You know the flow on a old diaper
Ain't no containin' a (?)
Cannot compare to a Leonitas
Phone jumpin' off-hook
I'm in my robe when I cook
I'm centerfoldin' my looks
I'm tired on schoolin' you rooks
Turned the 'telly to the trap
Different season on the raps
Smokin loud, trying to hold it down
Fuck it, neighbors hatin' on the low
Any city, I'mma pull up in it, make a fuckin' movie at the show
Made a killin' at the door
I've been living on the road
Fans feed my soul
Keep on feedin' 'em tho
I heard a knock at that door

Don't you call the cops, I'm smokin' on that killa
I'm so super lit I can't even fight the feelin'
Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions
Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling

I'm on to bag play (yeah, yeah)
I'm in a great space (yeah, yeah)
Ain't with the fake love, I won't even handshake (oh no)
The real niggas fuck with me, I'm talkin' the long way
I jump on the beat hungry, I make it my entree (did that)