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lirik lagu megan thee stallion – make a bag

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[intro]
ramy on the beat
liljumadedabeat

[hook: megan thee stallion]
aye, yeah
b-tch i’m exquisite, no cheap sh-t
ahead of these b-tches, i lead sh-t
makin’ it pop on some freak sh-t
you bring it to me
you know i’ma make a bag
and make it twerk, twerk, twerk
make that b-tch jump
you know i’ma make a bag
and make it twerk, twerk, twerk
make that b-tch jump
ahh!

[verse 1: moneybagg yo]
i’m at pappadeuax eating seafood (seafood)
racks in my pocket and a big tool (big tool)
the sh-t that i’m rockin’ got red on the bottom, hoe
these are no cheap shoes (shoes)
i really be hustlin’, i really be thuggin’ (i really be thuggin’)
i ain’t one of these rap dudes (i ain’t one of these rap dudes)
diamonds jumping out the face of the altima
doing the michael jackson kick move (d-mn!)
i’ma big dog, you a shih tzu
she gone kick the n-gga out ‘for i come thru (ah!)
yeen ain’t been thru what i’ve been thru
now i’m up, i’m gone ball like caillou (like caillou)
ah choo! bless me (ah choo!)
please don’t test me
i won’t hesitate to buss the smith and wesson (buss)
dope boys and some k!llas in my section (right on, right on)
you a lame, we ain’t f-ckin’ with you peasants (no)
i got big pointer sittin’ inside the necklace
reach for my chain, send yo’ -ss to heaven
shoot first, we don’t do the second guessin’ (hit it now)
hit his n-gga and i bet he get the message (stat!)
i’m in a maserati truck, fishbowl n-gga (skrrt, skrrt)
i know they -ss seein’ me, but i don’t see a soul n-gga

[verse 2: megan thee stallion]
i’m at grand luxe eatin’ caesar salad with my sugar daddy
pulled up on me in a big benz, told me to drive
i told him, let me have it
no time to play with these n-ggas, huh
after i break ’em, i kick ’em, huh
told him to put me some ice on my neck and my ears if he want me to listen, hey huh
he wanna swim in my lap, huh
he tryna get in my snaps, huh
i’m tellin’ b-tches i’ve been in my bag, but now i got the wallet to match, huh
he love how i fit in my clothes, huh
he love how i talk, i’ma poet, hey
he told me he think that he fallin’ in love
and i told him i’m already knowin’, huh
i might balance a b-tch on these ‘enciagas
i can’t see the haters thru these f-ckin’ pradas
they gone book me cuz i bring the p-ssy poppers
and the n-ggas with money that’s poppin’ bottles
i’ma make a bag and make it twerk
i’m finna run up a bag in a skirt
they checkin’ him but the gun in my purse
i’m k!llin’ these hoes and i know that they hurt
ahh!

[hook: megan thee stallion]
yeah
b-tch i’m exquisite, no cheap sh-t
ahead of these b-tches, i lead sh-t
makin’ it pop on some freak sh-t
you bring it to me
you know i’ma make a bag
and make it twerk, twerk, twerk
make that b-tch jump
you know i’ma make a bag
and make it twerk, twerk, twerk
make that b-tch jump
ahh! ahh!


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