Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Make a Bag, artist - Megan Thee Stallion. Album song Tina Snow, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.12.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: 1501 Certified, 300 Entertainment
Song language: English
Make a Bag |
Aye, yeah |
Bitch I’m exquisite, no cheap shit |
Ahead of these bitches, I lead shit |
Makin' it pop on some freak shit |
You bring it to me |
You know I’ma make a bag |
And make it twerk, twerk, twerk |
Make that bitch jump |
You know I’ma make a bag |
And make it twerk, twerk, twerk |
Make that bitch jump |
Ahh! |
I’m at Pappadeuax eating seafood |
Racks in my pocket and a big tool |
The shit that I’m rockin' got red on the bottom, hoe |
These are no cheap shoes |
I really be hustlin', I really be thuggin' |
I ain’t one of these rap dudes |
Diamonds jumping out the face of the Altima |
Doing the Michael Jackson kick move |
I’ma big dog, you a shih tzu |
She gone kick the nigga out 'for I come thru |
Yeen ain’t been thru what I’ve been thru |
Now I’m up, I’m gone ball like Caillou |
Ah choo! |
Bless me |
Please don’t test me |
I won’t hesitate to buss the Smith and Wesson |
Dope boys and some killas in my section |
You a lame, we ain’t fuckin' with you peasants |
I got big pointer sittin' inside the necklace |
Reach for my chain, send yo' ass to heaven |
Shoot first, we don’t do the second guessin' |
Hit his nigga and I bet he get the message |
I’m in a Maserati truck, fish bowl nigga |
I know they ass seein' me, but I don’t see a soul nigga |
I’m at grand luxe eatin' caesar salad with my sugar daddy |
Pulled up on me in a big benz, told me to drive |
I told him, let me have it |
No time to play with these niggas, huh |
After I break 'em, I kick 'em, huh |
Told him to put me some ice on my neck and ears if he want me to listen, hey huh |
He wanna swim in my lap, huh |
He tryna get in my snaps, huh |
I tellin' bitches I’ve been in my bag, but now I got the wallet to match, huh |
He love how I fit in my clothes, huh |
He love how I talk, I’ma poet, hey |
He told me he think that he fallin' in love |
And I told him I’m already knowin', huh |
I might balance a bitch on these 'enciagas |
I can’t see the haters thru these fuckin' pradas |
They gone book me cuz I bring the pussy poppers |
And the niggas with money that’s poppin' bottles |
I’ma make a bag and make it twerk |
I’m finna run up a bag in a skirt |
They checkin' him but the gun in my purse |
I’m killin' these hoes and I know that they hurt |
Ahh! |
Yeah |
Bitch I’m exquisite, no cheap shit |
Ahead of these bitches, I lead shit |
Makin' it pop on some freak shit |
You bring it to me |
You know I’ma make a bag |
And make it twerk, twerk, twerk |
Make that bitch jump |
You know I’ma make a bag |
And make it twerk, twerk, twerk |
Make that bitch jump |
Ahh! |