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letra de bag talk - phil sosa

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double bag gang, better get you a stick. i outlook get em ate like a twix. lil brodie on gold said he was l!cking for l!cks. i just got a sting on the plug with the bricks. top-notch dope sh-t smells like i farted. tell him to be quiet before we make him a target. 50 on me, imma f-ck up the party. n–s ain’t eating; they’re mad; they’re starving. pour up a four-imma sip out the cartons. don’t hand me your cd; i know that it’s garbage. badass yeller feels like martin. don’t got milk, b-tch, i got work. i pour up thе mud because i came from thе dirt. tell him to be quiet or get put on a shirt. i up with that 40. i like how it jerks. too much swag hoe i’m dripping in louis’. ice my b-tch out, hoe f-ck them rubies. ass fat she did caught her a chewy. up with the k’ make it look like a movie. put the beam on his face now he’s yelling, don’t shoot me. band days, bust out the truly. she fell in love seeing me stepping into gucci. you got the wrong one. i’m not f-cking with groupies. touch me a m. ice out a new g shock. run up a check because i bought rick fox. freaky little b-tch, she gon climb to the top. 23 where it goes down no joc. make yo b-tch suck like xpac. i up with the chop, he gets knocked out his crocks. he tried to be tough and ran into the dot. flashlight on, yeah, yeah. i’m hitting everything that moves. no, go go gadget. i’ve been handling tools. streets b-tch, i got approved. thats a 223. get knocked out of your shoes. big street sweepers get them swept like brooms. these n–s ain’t hard these n–s bafoons. she told me about you thinking you were a goon. might up with a heckler and clear out the room. i hop in the whip. i feel like boozie. i’ll zoom a giant; most of these n–s are proons. you gon get stripped out for trying to be cool. jake’s pulling me over, bobo the fool. why are you tripping these b-tches? . raised in a jungle but up in a zoo. throw me the chopper on gang, i’m going to scoot. what are you doing? better hang out that roof. but the beam on his chest tried to tear up his suit. he tried to blow me just like a flute. we went over the whole scene and aren’t leaving any proof

outro: yeah, yeah, yeah, aye 23 sh-t. bmg, the gang man, come on, man, free the gods, man. f-ck every n–a who is hating because i hear you n–s out there talking, man, but yeah, we get money though

- phil sosa

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