y$57 - bag check lyrics
[verse 1: y$57]
f+ck boy you wanna test me
bullet in yo’ chest piece
f+ck boy trynna beef
i pull up, like imma chess piece
this glock for you especially
you b+tches act so specially
i press him thru’ the dms
call the cops, cuz im his enemy
all these b+tches dip
i come quick
you a b+tch
neck slit
motherf+ckers wanna get it like this
imma show
what it is
idols turn into my rivals
you the one, target aquired
turn his clique into a choir
you a twink, that f+ck on minors
you a lame, you a goof
this my lane, imma gook
dade county in the roof
you say midnight, i say boof
imma beat you into two
you were cut
where the noose?
thats why x cut yo’ verse
you is washed, you is cursed
[verse 2: k.v.n]
that’s why you a b+tch, talkin’ tough but you lil’ bro
why wait? throw that f+ckin’ b+tch, out the window
aye, yuh, b+tch go f+ck yourself, like a nympho
why the f+ck you recycle yo’ friends, they like sh+t, though?
h.u.r.t gang, in this f+ckin’ b+tch, i tell em’ back up
all these f+ckin’ drugs inside my body, i’m boutta act up
we don’t give a f+ck on what it takes to get the racks up
yeah, i’m broke as f+ck and yo b+tch want me in her assh0l+
[verse 3: brxnd]
7.62 through your d+mn head
deflate what that ego inflated
make out a noose out mother f+ckers d+mn dreads
watch him cry with that critical damage
kami talkin stupid imma cl!ck him like a powerpoint
ridin on my d+ck i’m gonna snap his f+ckin ball joints
talkin all that sh+t i’m boutta shoot him like some steroids
sippin out the bottle freshen up just like its altoids
aye aye
how the f+ck you lookin like dyk+ b+tch
why the f+ck you talkin like a white b+tch
sh+t up on a track better wipe it
boy you sounding corny better lock in
product of drugs you a product of failure
product of greatness your boy need a savior
walk like im jesus not born in a manger
stand at attention salute to your major
[verse 4: ganta x]
i do not f+ck with the flex
put (?) into his neck
(?)
aye
i take his brother, his mother, his father, sister and uncle and turn him swiss cheese
(?) put the blade to his gun, put him down, it will make my relief(?)
i don’t (?) f+ck kami, (?)
you said it was target acquired (?)
you some b+tches
(?) fit the checklist
you a f+ck n+gga, you a b+tch, you a f+ggot
his money has been tested, but couldn’t pay his bag check
skinny lil’ b+tch, go watch his dreads break his d+mn neck
[verse 5: omxnemo]
this rule number one you don’t go f+cking with my money b+tch
wouldn’t gave a f+ck if you had kept your f+cking mouth shut
slither motherf+cker wanna test and get your wig split
you ain’t tote no metal p+ssy keep your f+ckin’ tongue tucked (you say you a b+tch?)
rich pr+ck but p+ssy boy can not afford a bag check
chihuahua lookin ass you f+ckin mad okay what’s up then
why you built like paper go and hit a f+ckin bench press
you know that won’t help you i’ll still pop you like a soviet
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