Lyrics Get The Bag - Blayze, AKA

Get The Bag

I be going in in the VIP with the finest
It’s the main event we gon' hit you with the fireworks
Everyone’s your friend when the bottles come alive
Rolling with the gang, gang it’s gon' be a fucking crisis
Rhythm 'round the table and I know you can’t relate
Champagne that’s the level but I tell you how it taste
(Rrra, rrra, rrra)
Middle finger to your street cred
Do the most, get your bands, that’s a toast I say
Get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
I got the answers I ain’t nothing like your last guy
I’m such a dax they tell my story by the campfire
If she got ass then I’ma have her calling Supa
First I, and I, and I
Call me the shooter eh
You got some nerve you brought a flute to the table
Crib in the burbs you see the view, see the neighbors
Now we convert, the mammies come from all sides
Boyfriend out of town so you can feba all night
Kanti what’s her name?
The one with mmm and the waist
And expensive taste, red bottoms is fake but the titty shake
Ask her what she want she said the whole thang
Ain’t gotta to tell her who’s the man that’s a no brain
So send your nudes on the lay low
Baby make it look right
It’s the make you dream of what of what you wish a nigga look like
Rrra, rrra
Pray for enemies and non believers
R.I.P.
to competition thank you Jesus
I be going in in the VIP with the finest
It’s the main event we gon' hit you with the fireworks
Everyone’s your friend when the bottles come alive
Rolling with the gang, gang it’s gon' be a fucking crisis
Rhythm 'round the table and I know you can’t relate
Champagne that’s the level but I tell you how it taste
(Rrra, rrra, rrra)
Middle finger to your street cred
Do the most, get your bands, that’s a toast I say
Get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
All my bitches link up, tell me what the vibe is
Pull up in a big truck, we African diamonds
You don’t have to worry 'bout the things we do in private
If you getting money then you preaching to the choir
Bottles on my table make you feel some kinda way
I be on Rodeo but my bae from Mahikeng
Middle finger to my teachers
They said I would never be shit
I hit these bambinos with the side eye
You’re stroking my ego I can’t be no camera shy guy
You’re José Mourinho nigga watching from the side lines
Meanwhile me and all my amigos living the high life
Yeah, I say tell me what your life like
Tell me why your wife throwing spikes on my timeline
Ask 'em who the best, and they all know
School of Excellence, Jomo Sono
My public persona get a lot of hate
Fuck what you’re saying if you staying at your mamma place
Yah!
Yah!
Dolce and Gabanna on my collar man
Ya’ll drinking Savanna on your holiday
I be going in in the VIP with the finest
It’s the main event we gon' hit you with the fireworks
Everyone’s your friend when the bottles come alive
Rolling with the gang, gang it’s gon' be a fucking crisis
Rhythm 'round the table and I know you can’t relate
Champagne that’s the level but I tell you how it taste
(Rrra, rrra, rrra)
Middle finger to your street cred
Do the most, get your bands, that’s a toast I say
Get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
Get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money
I tell 'em get the bag, bag, get the money