Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Body Bags, artist - Erigga
Date of issue: 03.10.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Body Bags |
Them niggas pussy. |
Sucka ass niggas |
I don’t like either one (I don’t even like 'em) |
But the other night I’m in the gambling spot |
Nigga come up in here — boom — hit the door |
«Get the fuck on the floor, bitch, get down on the floor |
«I turn around like, «what?» |
Niggas like, «get down! |
«(When was this?) I’m like, «nigga, I got on white linen.» |
Fuck it, I mean we gotta kill what we eat, right? |
It’s not a problem, it’s really not a problem. |
Southside |
Okay, the dope addin' up, the coke addin' up |
The smoke addin' up, my pockets are fattened up |
I got bitches in my bedroom, nerds on computers |
Diamonds 'round my neck, straps for my shooters |
I made it, look ma', I made it |
I grind so hard to get here I can’t be faded |
I got lawyers on the line, five different kinds |
Five different crimes, same .45 |
Got a plan to turn to premise, see, a nigga ain’t lyin' |
Cause they ain’t gon' say I did it and I ain’t gon' say I did it |
And I might go back and forth to court, better bet I get acquitted |
Can you dig it? |
Nigga, can you dig it? |
Shit changed, a nigga ain’t broke |
I had a safe size as a shoe box, it felt like a vault |
Now I got real money, that «fuck how you feel» money |
That «nigga, you look at me wrong, get killed» money |
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual |
Hop out, hammer out to get at you |
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual |
.45 lettin' off some shit at you |
You gon' be put in a body bag |
You won’t get a chance to fire back |
I peep my swag in the mirror, I think I got a crush on me |
I don’t want no wack bitches touchin' me |
Tailor-made threads, satin sheets on my bed |
Get a bitch sea-sick, waves all on my head |
Diamonds in my ear, Baccarat chandelier |
Gabbana underwear, I’m so fly it ain’t fair |
Every day a different dime piece |
Rose Gold, a different time piece |
Hublot, AP or rollie |
Your bitch and your jeweler know me, homie |
I’m bulletproof, go 'head, take a shot at me |
You be a dead nigga like the last one that got at me |
My shirt level three so I ain’t got a vest on |
My heart like ice, my chest like teflon |
I’m a nightmare right here, just me and my knife, nigga |
Don’t let me find out you ain’t 'bout that life, nigga |
It’s doomsday, I mean goon day |
I get the orders, like, «air out the room, Dre» |
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual |
Hop out, hammer out to get at you |
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual |
.45 lettin' off some shit at you |
You gon' be put in a body bag |
You won’t get a chance to fire back |
The mollies had a shorty ass trippin' strippin' in my kitchen |
Push my thumb in her ass while I was strokin' her kitten |
I be in my own zone, still clutchin' the chrome |
Talk state of the art, you will see 'nine to foe |
My passport need pages, I’m fuckin' round' out in London |
Jetlag from jets, wrist lit baguettes |
Trippin' in my charm, look bitch, I’m a don |
So shit go how I say it go, fuck if I’m right or wrong |
My paper long, bomb kush in the bong |
It feels like I’m dreamin' cause a nigga on |
I’m so far from a hammy down, I’m out in Miami now |
My bitch no speak no ingles, she fresh off the boat |
She give me neck, what you expect? |
I got connects for the dope |
I’m no joke, blow 30k on the coke, stuff ten in the coat |
Nigga, front, I’ll have a hand full of dreadlocks |
Bitch, I hit your ass with a headshot |
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual |
Hop out, hammer out to get at you |
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual |
.45 lettin' off some shit at you |
You gon' be put in a body bag |
You won’t get a chance to fire back |