50 CENT - Body Bags lyrics
rate me(Intro)
Nigga, (yeah), nigga, ya know I don't fuck wit them niggas
Them niggas pussy. Sucka ass niggas. I don't like either one (I don't even like 'em)
But the otha night I'm in the gambling spot
Nigga come up in here - boom - hit the door
'Get the fuck on the floor, bitch, get down on the floor' I turn around like, 'what?'
Niggas like, 'get down!' (When was this?) I'm like, 'nigga, I got on white linen'
Fuck it, I mean we got to kill what we eat, right? It's not a problem, it's really not a problem
Southside
(Verse)
Ok, the dope adding up, the coke adding up
The smoke adding up, my pockets are fattened up
I got bitches in my bedroom, nerds on computers
Diamonds 'round my neck, straps for my shootas
I made it, look mah, I made it
I grind so hard to get here I can't be faded
I got lawyers on the line, 5 different kinds
5 different crimes, same .45
Got a plan to turn to premise, see, a nigga ain't lying
Cuz they ain't gon' say I did it and I ain't gon' say I did it
And I might go back and forth to court, betta bet I get acquitted
Can ya dig it? Nigga, can ya dig it? Shit changed, a nigga ain't broke
I had a safe size as a shoe box, it felt like a vault
Now I got real money, that 'fuck how ya feel' money
That 'nigga, ya look at me wrong, get killed' money
(Hook)
Ya gon' be part of my body bag ritual
Hop out, hammer out to get at ya
Ya gon' be part of my body bag ritual
.45 letting off some shit at ya
Ya gon' be put in a body bag
Ya won't get a chance to fire back
(Verse 2)
I peep my swag in the mirror, I think I got a crush on me
I don't want no wack bitches touching me
Tailor-made threads, satin sheets on my bed
Get a bitch sea-sick, waves all on my head
Diamonds in my ear, baccarat chandelier
Gabbana underwear, I'm so fly it ain't fair
Every day a different dime piece
Rose Gold, a different time piece, hublot, AP or rollie
Yo bitch and yo jeweler know me, homie
I'm bulletproof, go 'head, take a shot at me
Ya be a dead nigga like the last one that got at me
My shirt level 3, so I ain't got a vest on
My heart like ice, my chest like teflon
I'm a nightmare right here, just me and my knife, nigga
Don't let me find out ya ain't 'bout that life, nigga
It's doomsday, I mean goon day
I get the orders, like, 'air out the room, Dre'
(Hook)
(Verse 3)
The mileage had a shorty ass tripping stripping in my kitchen
Push my thumb in her ass while I was strokin' her kitten
I be in my own zone, still clutching the chrome
Talk state of the art, Billy Cena on the phone
My passport need pages, I'm fucking round' out in London
Jetlag from jets, kris lit, baguettes
Tripping in my charm, look bitch, I'm a don
So shit go how I say it go, fuck if I'm right or wrong
My paper long, bomb kush in the bong
It feels like I'm dreaming cuz a nigga on
I'm so far from a hammy down, I'm out in Miami now
My bitch no speak no ingleis, she fresh off the boat
She give me neck, what ya expect? I got connects for the dope
I'm no joke, blow 30 kay on the coke, stuff ten in the coat
Nigga, front, I'll have a hand full of dreadlocks
Bitch, I hit yo ass wit a headshot
(Hook)
