Contract Plus The Bag

Popularity · Low

YouTube

Searching YouTube...

Lyrics

Brrrrrr We gon' go right into it Ay, Lord Nard Thirty in the Jordan box, servin' niggas water rocks All the opps, knowin' ain't no talkin' when the order drop Steady sellin' hot cakes, we ready for a cop chase Flee Lord, I meditate in peace where it's not safe Waitin' on the scratch-off, I'm knockin' all these hats off Feds ain't even on us, but watch how you trap, Lord Slip and tie a knot, while your bitch cry and watch 'Cause you ran your fuckin' jibs on your brick-buyin' plots My music for connects, and shooters in your set Don't confuse us with the rest, I do this in the flesh Loyalty, the light shinin', order me some white diamonds Life rhymin', a contract plus the bag, yeah, I might sign it Huh, I said a contract plus the bag, yeah, you know I might sign it What's up, my name, ayy, my name, ayy, my name Grav, ho When I'm on the job, I'm on it properly I cut the farmer's crops 'cause I'm Stuck in the barber shop of pharmacology The stones in my watch are water droppery Get off my property, the dope in the pot is dark mahogany Open and lock, armed robbery Your chain is a small lottery Your whole gangster is soft pottery I trap while my daughter watchin' me, I heard her call me I tried to hide this life from my son, but he heard the stories Murder glory, clippin' the shotty part blew off The choppa could make it look like your body parts grew off The wings on the top of the dart flew off I'm heartless, the top of my heart grew off I park and the top of my car flew off But I'm unseen, my burner is unclean, but the dirt's in my bloodstream You internet thugs, I make your death Go viral and make your blood stream My trigger finger makin' a love scene, what up, Cyn? I told my nigga Flee Lord, I brought the whole keyboard The kilogram cooker, the butcher gon' bring you three more I'm walkin' on clouds, quarter key in my Dior's Try and transition to havin' meetings with Lyor It's Reaganomics, praise the Lord, I'm just payin' homage Sharpshooter like Isaiah Thomas, modern day Adonis I'm old school, polo shirt with the grey atomics Mercedes climbin' is still cool as a baby bonnet Uh, my repertoire come from Escobar Beef with me, before you jump in your whip, check your car Get a Nike swoosh on your face, that's a extra scar Put a shiner right on your eye, bright as the mega star Yeah, C38 on the beat I return the favor for 'em, the thirty-eight on your cheek Listen, I catch bodies, that's thirty-eight in a week The hitman, send you right to the pearly gates when you sleep, pain Ay, Flee, I told you I got you BSF Gang, pain GxFR