lirik lagu cj lil trife - baggin it up
[hook]
baggin it up, i’ma pull up with yo b-tch and i’ma bust a nut. got 2 .3’s and i’ma f-ck you up. gotta race gotta blast like i’m chase. gotta blast b-tch this isn’t lambcast, b-tch this is a broadcast. doin the dash daily, i ain’t got no baby. at least not anymore, i mean she was a wh0r-, she annoying like my ch0r-s. runnin up checks, shootin at the ops, don’t f-ck with djx and don’t run from the cops
[verse 1]
shootin up stores and banks, drug deals be raisin up yo rank. smokin like a rasta, no this sh-t ain’t opera. got extendo all on my choppa. got gas and a .50, suckin on them t-tties. nah i’m not like that i usually don’t wear red, got yo b-tch in my bed, and she give me head. pull up to yo crib in my drop top, smokin gas fresh from the crockpot. i’ma start flexin less, when i do sh-t i know i’m the best, don’t wanna be like lester crest. sh-t, gotta keep gta outta my music, gotta focus on life that’s how i’m gonna make it through this. if you f-ck with me i’ma still let my choppa bang, and the last thing you heard was when yo doorbell rang, and to yo crib i came. i’ve been runnin up checks, that’s how i got ice on my wrist and neck. lameboy tryin to start some sh-t up and i end it real quick, came home last night you saw yo girl on my d-ck. like 6ix9ne i pull up to yo crib, show you my stick, and i let it f-cking hit. that’s only for n-ggas that think its funny, i’ma show them real quick that i don’t play over the money. pull up in a foreign shootin my choppa, my hair long as f-ck like pasta. no you can’t stop us, can’t put me in the cell where you lock us. i shoot them fake -ss dudes, if you want beef i could k!ll you too, and i’ll record it to put it on youtube. got a hunnid round drum, pull up to yo crib don’t try to run, if you do i guess you you gon get caught with this huge -ss gun. i got dem hands, pull up to yo crib we gon fight that’s the plan, yo b-tch blow me like a fan, i ain’t like an old man, take her in a van. f-ck that sh-t, i don’t do that to a b-tch
[hook]
baggin it up, i’ma pull up with yo b-tch and i’ma bust a nut. got 2 .3’s and i’ma f-ck you up. gotta race gotta blast like i’m chase. gotta blast b-tch this isn’t lambcast, b-tch this is a broadcast. doin the dash daily, i ain’t got no baby. at least not anymore, i mean she was a wh0r-, she annoying like my ch0r-s. runnin up checks, shootin at the ops, don’t f-ck with djx and don’t run from the cops
[verse 2]
don’t f-ck with me cause i’ma spray you up, b-tch i’m high off the lean i just poured into my cup, i’m a h-llhound you a lil pup and you get dumped. that’s just how my ao goes, and that’s all in the bro code. i ain’t got no wife, i’m into girls that got the spice, i don’t like girls that aren’t nice, i don’t know if girls would like lil trife. yeah he callin out the b-tches, callin out the hoes, he stay away from them cause he only trust the bros, that’s all in the bro code. you should really establish one, got beef with me i’ma make sure you’re done
[outro]
peace b-tches…
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