50 CENT

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)

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