letra de it's only right - db.boutabag
[intro]
it’s only right
it’s only right i drop a—
only right i drop a bag for all the times i ain’t— (wassupfabe)
ayy
i’m ’bout a bag, ain’t gotta ask me
[chorus]
it’s only right i drop a bag for all the times i ain’t had sh-t
in this big body with a bad b-tch
i guarantee you i ain’t nothin’ like your last n-gga
and on my mama, i ain’t lookin’ for my last b-tch (i ain’t looking)
[verse 1]
baby tried to use her cat to get back at me
stupid b-tch watch my new b-tch, throw some racks at me
behind tint, she gon’ eat d-ck like a krabby patty
i’m not finna tell this b-tch my name, she gon’ call me daddy
run that bag up faster than jackrabbit, stupid n-gga
i see this n-gga think he havin’ motion, but we still gon’ get him
same n-ggas you’ve been d-ck sucking better be with you
i ain’t seen this n-gga in a minute, but i need my issue
brodie step back, wipe his nose, dog gon’ need some tissue
i’ll cut that b-tch off so quick, it’s an early dismissal
i need my chicken, shе gon’ suck bone down to the gristle
i got forty-fivе klocks in this whip like i’m donovan mitch-ll
[chorus]
it’s only right i drop a bag for all the times i ain’t had sh-t
in this big body with a bad b-tch
i guarantee you i ain’t nothin’ like your last n-gga
and on my mama, i ain’t lookin’ for my last b-tch
it’s only right i drop a bag for all the times i ain’t had sh-t
in this big body with a bad b-tch
i guarantee you i ain’t nothin’ like your last n-gga
and on my mama, i ain’t lookin’ for my last b-tch
[verse 2]
lookin’ for my last b-tch, on god, that b-tch could skate
when it came down to real sh-t, she couldn’t bust a grape
hit my new b-tch from the back, i got her saying
and i’m not gon’ take a break, put that sh-t on every day
all these racks on, way i’m walking, you would’ve thought i’m off some drank
and the way he make diss songs, get his ass some armor plates
two-stepping for the bag, watch me harlem shake
finna be a millionaire, i’m just a couple songs away
it’s only right i drop a bag for all them n-ggas out there hated on me
now hate on this, b-tch, i got paper on me
tried to put these n-ggas on, i ain’t never had to snake my homie
it is what it is, see brodie, we gon’ get up on him
we gon’ get up on him, i play—
i play it smooth, but keep thirty sh-lls on me like macaroni (macaroni)
like macaroni
huh, free your b-tch, free brodie, and, on my mama, r.i.p the homies
[chorus]
it’s only right i drop a bag for all the times i ain’t had sh-t
in this big body with a bad b-tch
i guarantee you i ain’t nothin’ like your last n-gga
and on my mama, i ain’t lookin’ for my last b-tch
(it’s only right i drop a bag for all them n-ggas out there hated on me
now hate on this, b-tch, i got paper on me
tried to put these n-ggas on, i ain’t never had to snake my homie
it is what it is, see brodie, we gon’ get up on him)
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