P Money - Bags Under My Eyes lyrics

Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
They wanna chat about guns and
They wanna chat about fuckerys
But they ain’t even got no guns and
They ain’t even done no fuckerys
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
They wanna chat about guns and
They wanna chat about fuckerys
But they ain’t even got no guns and
They ain’t even done no fuckerys

You think you're well hard
You think you're bad
Yeah? You think you're well hard
This don must've hit his head well hard


Mario World, you're fucking with a sheller
Yeah, I'm from south
Got connects to the east
And them dargs there ain’t
Nothing like ‘wellard’
The end result might leave you in a pool
When my shooters catch you
Slipping like Gerrard
Suarez moments, big boi sheller
I kept it all bottled up, no cellar
Manaman got the low down from Shredda
Bang! Smash! Big boi, Stella
"P Money, 'llow it, you should know better"
I am the best, I don’t know no better
Shut your mouth, blud, tell me who’s better
Tired of this shit, someone tell this bredda
Look in my face

Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
They wanna chat about guns and
They wanna chat about fuckerys
But they ain’t even got no guns and
They ain’t even done no fuckerys
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
They wanna chat about guns and
They wanna chat about fuckerys
But they ain’t even got no guns and
They ain’t even done no fuckerys

Man said they want beef
Nah, nah, nah, not me
What, he didn't ask for it? Nah, not me
I ordered lettuce and veggie beans
Man can't take me for a mint tea
Pap pap pap, holes in his mint tee
Said you was a shooter, said you was a gunner
Now all you do is talk Thierry Henry
Breaking news when I pull out the torch
These long shots end up on Sky Sports
Which one of you wanna visit up north?
Awoh, that's what I thought
They ain't got the training we've been taught
They say don't talk if you get caught
We say brudda, don't get caught
You're a weak link whether or not you talk
Look in my face

Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
They wanna chat about guns and
They wanna chat about fuckerys
But they ain’t even got no guns and
They ain’t even done no fuckerys
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
They wanna chat about guns and
They wanna chat about fuckerys
But they ain’t even got no guns and
They ain’t even done no fuckerys

"Oi, do you want me to switch?"
Why ask if I want you to switch?
Like I'm gonna say yeah, fuck it, yeah
Switch i'll bang you up, you prick
Black baseball bat looking all sick
Pussy, hold onto your ribs
One swing, swell up his lips
Smash Stella Artois and shit
Acting like you're God's gift
You ain't old school and you ain't God's Gift
Might wrap man up with a yout from Bow
Send man to the sky, now you're God's gift
Disappear from the game, call it a glitch
Never watched baseball but we
Know how to pitch
Ten bags for a ‘profesh’ hitman
But we've got youts that'll lick man for six
Look in my face

Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
They wanna chat about guns and
They wanna chat about fuckerys
But they ain’t even got no guns and
They ain’t even done no fuckerys
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
Got bags under my eyes
I’m tired of telling these breddas
They wanna chat about guns and
They wanna chat about fuckerys
But they ain’t even got no guns and
They ain’t even done no fuckerys