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blue pesos - racing to the bag lyrics

[verse 1]
one chance at this sh+t, no resp+wns
i just wanna f+ck, bae, i’m not the one to lean on
nina ross bustin’ on the opps, i know where g’s went
no rami, everything creamy, ain’t no cheap racks
sweet chin music, i get exclusive, you could sing to it
brains on the pavement if he even think to reach for it
punchin’ in the endzone for six, call me beast mode
five+piece chicken wing for p, i got elite toast
i’ll turn this block upside down like a rubix cube
just did ’em trifling, got exclusive in my louis shoes
knocked down bugs for these carats, this ain’t looney tunes
him or his brother? i don’t know, let’s let rudi choose
and mei ling gettin’ freaky on our honeymoon
you got heart for real, brother, i gotta hand it to you
really got it out the slums, i was a silverspoon
shanaynay just took a n+gga to the boom boom room
up and down like hydraulics
every time my check clear, i’m like, “f+ck it, more diamonds”
n+ggas mad at my lyrics, they can’t get what we buyin’
you could tell by my appearance that i’m touchin’, wrist shinin’
both of ’em

[chorus]
race to the bag, feet never slow
bet i’m finna blast, never let a n+gga get up on me
racks in the bag, sittin’ on my hip, it’s a 40
i got a show tonight, let’s wrap this sh+t up and get it going, sh+t
racing to the bag, feet never slow
i got a show tonight, let’s wrap this sh+t up and get it going
[verse 2]
when a 40+ounce bounce, it’s game over
maybach benz, sh+t, sl!ck in the back, gettin’ chauffeured
when i count to ten, n+ggas turn to instant track runners
a p80, no surf, that’s for surely finna jam
he thought he was a joint and got hand
free the mob out the cuffs, let my n+ggas out the can
tryin’ hard with insta scuffs, i just stomp ’cause i can
you ain’t never seen a hundred bands wrapped in rubber bands?
she look then she took, better not let her take a glance
only the mob like the corner ten, we choppin’ off the hands
she ain’t tryna break bread, it’s better that she play dead
ten sticks in the car, calm down, get a grip
like for real, though

[outro]
yeah
fat loaf, n+gga, loafy world
it’s on the floor, n+gga
hmm
i got a show tonight, let’s wrap this sh+t up and get it going
when a 40+ounce bounce, it’s game over
maybach benz, sh+t, sl!ck in the back, gettin’ chauffeured
when i count to ten, n+ggas turn to instant track runners
a p80, no surf, that’s for surely finna jam
he thought he was a joint and got hand
free the mob out the cuffs— yeah, you know what the f+ck goin’ on
long live the truth

- blue pesos lyrics

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