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letra de keep me a bag - good finesse

[intro: c5 tha reaper]
(ayy, moon, turn my sh-t up)
all type of pics, all type of pics

[chorus: c5 tha reaper & good finesse]
yeah, i’m not really tryna do the romance (do the romance)
i’m tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (five in my pants)
but i still keep my son in my stash (son in the stash)
not in the gym, but i still keep a bag (money)
i’m not really tryna do the romance (do the romance)
i’m tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (five in my pants)
but i still keep my son in my stash (son in the stash)
not in the gym, but i still keep a bag (money)

[verse 1: c5 tha reaper]
i cut ties with n-ggas, i’m tryna cosign these millions
yeah, the vibe is different, you be d-ck ridin’ n-ggas
all type of b-tches, i got all type of pistols
yeah, karate kickin’, i’m tryna body a n-gga
new swiss with the tips, i’m excited, n-gga (yeah)
i put the d-ck in your b-tch, now her ass gettin’ bigger
exotic whips in the field, yeah, i’m parkin’ different
i used to fall to the back and my life got richer
you better fall to the back ‘fore you strip them n-ggas
can’t stand a b-tton b-tch that always wanna ask them questions
dora explorer with the map, i’ma find these millions
but right now i’m in the trap countin’ up chicken
[chorus: c5 tha reaper & good finesse]
yeah, i’m not really tryna do the romance (do the romance)
i’m tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (five in my pants)
but i still keep my son in my stash (son in the stash)
not in the gym, but i still keep a bag (money)
i’m not really tryna do the romance (do the romance)
i’m tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (five in my pants)
but i still keep my son in my stash (son in the stash)
not in the gym, but i still keep a bag

[verse 2: good finesse]
not in the gym, but i keep me a bag
you tryna learn, need a pen and a pad, all p-ssed off, all that chicken on neck
frostbite when you look at my ear
straight drop of the wock’, you be sippin’ on beer
i be droppin’ hard songs, sh-t your b-tch wanna hear
you ain’t really gettin’ money, that be takin’ a year
q-tip on your b-tch ’cause i’m all in her ear
i ain’t f-ckin’ with you n-ggas, man, you n-ggas is weird
bald fade with the wave, but i’m tapered money
all old booth drip, man, you n-ggas is bummy
maestros for a steak, put it right in my tummy
green light on this sh-t, so i’m takin’ the money

[chorus: c5 tha reaper & good finesse]
i’m not really tryna do the romance (do the romance)
i’m tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (five in my pants)
but i still keep my son in my stash (son in the stash)
not in the gym, but i still keep a bag (money)
i’m not really tryna do the romance (do the romance)
i’m tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (five in my pants)
but i still keep my son in my stash (son in the stash)
not in the gym, but i still keep a bag (money)

- good finesse

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