Larry June - Baggage Claims lyrics
Larry June [Larry Eugene Hendricks] San Francisco, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Larry June - Baggage Claims lyrics]
Keep all that shit running
Put all that money right there, you see
That's a nice bag, big bag
You know what I’m sayin'?
I don't really give a fuck numbers
You know it’s always numbers when
I talk on the beat, bitch
I don't even gotta rap, I be playin'
Around with you bitch ass niggas
You know what I'm sayin'?
Got my money up now I'm
Living like a trust kid
Max Payne on a bitch
Choppa by the nightstand
I ain't looking for the drama
I just know I'm havin’ bread
You a well known thot
I don’t even want the head
Ten bands, twenty bands
I been thumbin' through a lot
Slide through the TSA with about
Ten in my sock i hit mangos in the Asia
Making food got me right
Get that hate out your heart
Lil’ nigga that ain't right
It's like a lil' Indian motherfuckin’ like
You know what I'm sayin', some Indian
Shit nigga like very peaceful
You know what I'm sayin'? Doo doo doo
Numbers nigga, off top
XD, two clips with pink slip
Touchdown, Ruth Chris when we hit Denver
Big Ds in my chain, I'ma dealer
Healthy nigga, never simpin'
Rappin', pimpin', stackin', flippin'
Racks, get 'em, packs, send 'em
You dig it? I'm shittin'
It's cool 'lil rhythm you a job ass turkey
You a bitch ass nigga
Ass, movin', goin' stupid
Slidin', mobbin', who is you?
Coupe too, urr, vroom
Clockin' loot, cock it, shoot
I need all my baggage claims
Duffle bag, bad days
Run it back, whole track
In the kitchen, in the K
Money so long, told her keep the trap
I might go crazy cop Fendi Mac
Nigga that's that boof, cop a different pack
You don't fuck with Larry June
Kinda shit is that? For real
Baby came through and her
Booty was tremendous
Hit it in the trap, on the couch
In the trenches
Larry MC where ya', Ricky Ricky, kill shit
Bass hit my phone with this beat
Had to kill this knot in my sock when I'm
Slidin' in my old school
Buss' another knock, double back
Hit the Whole Foods
I been on the clock making'
Racks off Pro Tools
Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye
Goddamn nigga, yeehee!
I need all my baggage claims
Duffle bag, bad days
Run it back, whole track
In the kitchen, in the K
Money so long, told her keep the trap
I might go crazy cop Fendi Mac
Nigga that's that boof, cop a different pack
You don't fuck with TFM, kinda shit is that?
Put all that money right there, you see
That's a nice bag, big bag
You know what I’m sayin'?
I don't really give a fuck numbers
You know it’s always numbers when
I talk on the beat, bitch
I don't even gotta rap, I be playin'
Around with you bitch ass niggas
You know what I'm sayin'?
Got my money up now I'm
Living like a trust kid
Max Payne on a bitch
Choppa by the nightstand
I ain't looking for the drama
I just know I'm havin’ bread
You a well known thot
I don’t even want the head
Ten bands, twenty bands
I been thumbin' through a lot
Slide through the TSA with about
Ten in my sock i hit mangos in the Asia
Making food got me right
Get that hate out your heart
Lil’ nigga that ain't right
It's like a lil' Indian motherfuckin’ like
You know what I'm sayin', some Indian
Shit nigga like very peaceful
You know what I'm sayin'? Doo doo doo
Numbers nigga, off top
XD, two clips with pink slip
Touchdown, Ruth Chris when we hit Denver
Big Ds in my chain, I'ma dealer
Healthy nigga, never simpin'
Rappin', pimpin', stackin', flippin'
Racks, get 'em, packs, send 'em
You dig it? I'm shittin'
It's cool 'lil rhythm you a job ass turkey
You a bitch ass nigga
Ass, movin', goin' stupid
Slidin', mobbin', who is you?
Coupe too, urr, vroom
Clockin' loot, cock it, shoot
I need all my baggage claims
Duffle bag, bad days
Run it back, whole track
In the kitchen, in the K
Money so long, told her keep the trap
I might go crazy cop Fendi Mac
Nigga that's that boof, cop a different pack
You don't fuck with Larry June
Kinda shit is that? For real
Baby came through and her
Booty was tremendous
Hit it in the trap, on the couch
In the trenches
Larry MC where ya', Ricky Ricky, kill shit
Bass hit my phone with this beat
Had to kill this knot in my sock when I'm
Slidin' in my old school
Buss' another knock, double back
Hit the Whole Foods
I been on the clock making'
Racks off Pro Tools
Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye
Goddamn nigga, yeehee!
I need all my baggage claims
Duffle bag, bad days
Run it back, whole track
In the kitchen, in the K
Money so long, told her keep the trap
I might go crazy cop Fendi Mac
Nigga that's that boof, cop a different pack
You don't fuck with TFM, kinda shit is that?