Bag Play

(album: Trust The Process II: Undefeated - 2018)

Hey, put a towel underneath the door
Open the windows up
Oh man

Don't you call the cops, I'm smoking on that killa
I'm so super lit I can't even fight the feeling
Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions
Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling

I'm on to bag play
I'm in a great space
Ain't with the fake love, I won't even handshake
The real niggas fuck with me, I'm talking the long way
I jump on the beat hungry, I make it a entree

I am not fighting the feeling
I gotta be one of the realest
Really though, one of the illest
Mentally fully committed
Ain't no sauce for the free
Ain't no land of the free
Ain't no hand-out, let me find out, nothing's here for the cheap
I'mma rise to occasion, every time we arrange it
I'm alive, nigga, get in line, still ahead of time with the cadance
No flaws, no flagging
Murder scene, new caskets
Boy, it's feeling like the first time Frank Lucas hit with Blue Magic
God

Oh shit, I think that's them people at the door Zeek
I think we done packed too much gelato in the [?]
Yeah, fuck it

Don't you call the cops, I'm smoking on that killa
I'm so super lit I can't even fight the feeling
Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions
Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling

I'm on to bag play (yeah, yeah)
I'm in a great space (yeah, yeah)
Ain't with the fake love (no way)
I won't even handshake (no way)
The real niggas fuck with me, I'm talking the long way
I jump on the beat hungry, I make it a entree (did that)

Ready or not, fuck if you ready or not
Niggas be talking a lot
Claiming they hot
"Fuck is you talking about?"
Niggas they wanna be 'Pac
You could get shot like him
You know the flow on a old diaper
Ain't no containing a [?]
Cannot compare to a Leonitas
Phone jumping off-hook
I'm in my robe when I cook
I'm centerfolding my looks
I'm tired on schooling you rooks
Turned the 'telly to the trap
Different season on the raps
Smokin loud, trying to hold it down
Fuck it, neighbors hating on the low
Any city, I'mma pull up in it, make a fucking movie at the show
Made a killing at the door
I've been living on the road
Fans feed my soul
Keep on feeding 'em tho
I heard a knock at that door

Don't you call the cops, I'm smoking on that killa
I'm so super lit I can't even fight the feeling
Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions
Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling

I'm on to bag play (yeah, yeah)
I'm in a great space (yeah, yeah)
Ain't with the fake love, I won't even handshake (oh no)
The real niggas fuck with me, I'm talking the long way
I jump on the beat hungry, I make it my entree (did that)