Bag Chase

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Bravo the Bagchaser] I ain't pullin' up without no backend MAC 10, my passenger now I'ma sag him Bag him, look at my wrist and it look back at me Type of nigga drop a bitch if she talk back to me Ooh, damn, hit Forgiato, need some new rims Shoot them, if you see the opps, better knock at 'em Glock four-five stick on it, not a stock on it Nigga, how you balling? You ain't even got no rocks on you Baby, I skrrt SRT Whole gang brought sticks to the party I might take a nigga bitch at the party Baby, yeah, you gettin' money, gotta show me Why these niggas speakin' on me? They don't know me, shut 'em up I ain't beefin' with no broke niggas, get your money up Have you ever been dead broke then a hundred up? I can takе a break, niggas still couldn't fuck with us, damn [Verse 2: R3 Da Chilliman] Road runner, I don't know shit but chase that monеy Poured an eight, then poured an eight 'cause I'm a junkie Countin' thousands while this bitch in here rollin' my weed In the AMG GT, bitch, the 63 Standard clip, the switch gon' give you all thirty rounds I don't plan on sellin' the Wock', so I'ma bust it down I'm hoodied up sendin' shots any time it's beef Blower on the seat, bitch, the stash elite [Verse 3: Peso Peso] Ayy I got the Glock on my hip, don't get shot with it He had a switch and he still got popped with it Yeah, y'all can fuck Instagram, y'all are not killers And told his ass meet me in LA, he wanna box, nigga Ayy, I'm toolied up, off a Percocet, yeah, I'm booted up I just got the head from your bitch, she was loose as fuck MAC-11s and I got them Five-SeveN Ruger tucked Tell don't mind me, bae, you know I'm off the drank, swear I'm rude as fuck, bitch [Verse 4: Bravo the Bagchaser] I was dead broke, now I'm rich, made my mama proud Twenty-one, made my first end, fuck you talkin' 'bout? Walk him down, bought a new chop, came with a hundred rounds Hope the potato on the barrel don't make a sound (I was dead broke, now I'm rich, made my mama proud Twenty-one, made my first end, fuck you talkin' 'bout? Walk him down, bought a new chop, came with a hundred rounds Hope the potato on the barrel don't make a sound) [Outro] (Beat that motherfucker up, Quad) (Scum, you finessed this one)