Rawood, Icewear Vezzo - Bag Talk lyrics
Icewear Vezzo [Chivez Smith] Detroit, Michigan, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Rawood, Icewear Vezzo - Bag Talk lyrics]
MIA Jay C i hear you, Jay C
Yeah, ay
Smoke a pussy nigga like a backwood
Ain't never play no basketball
But I trap good
Yeah, you ain't really gangster
You just act hood
Think he finna run up with that paper
Finna whack good (Ay, ay)
I ain't feelin' so stressed
Ain't gon' settle just like this ack would
Smack the shit out of that boy
Just like his dad would
My momma don't want me servin' packs
But she know that I'm damn good
I move a fifty pack, posted in the damn hood
(Ay) we 'a bleed them nigga's block until
We ran out of bullets
Walk a pussy nigga down
And then I stand and pull it
Got that FN in my pocket
Hit him in his hoodie
Yeah, this dawg so strong
That bitch need a mullet (Ay)
When I'm fuckin' on his bitch
She want me 'grab her hair and pull it
I'm a dealer blow the spot up
If you ain't tryna pay my muller
Mask on while I'm drivin'
Hunnid bowls in the trunk
My mans put this deal together
So I break him off a chunk
I just poured a pint of
Tenth in here with Rawood
Big choppa, that bitch flip a whole car hood
I got a laser on the AR, look like Star Wars
Took a hunnid-thousand to LA and
I bought all kush (Ay, ay)
Big AK, with a serty, bitch 'a clock pours
Bought a seven-grand blunt from
The cigar store
Steppin' throught the mud up in my Concords
I made it here today
So you know that's what I grind for
Got so much water on my neck
Might fuck around and drown
Oh, he got a thousand pints?
I'm finna buy him out
Put so much pressure on the boys
I made them throw the towel
Forty in a draco with me when I ride to town
Man, I feel like Mayweather 'way
I'm boxing up these bowls
Stackin' up these pros, and
If your price right, i get it gone
I can't love you baby, so I gotta lead you on
This is strictly bag talk
Go and listen to them songs
Yeah, ay
Smoke a pussy nigga like a backwood
Ain't never play no basketball
But I trap good
Yeah, you ain't really gangster
You just act hood
Think he finna run up with that paper
Finna whack good (Ay, ay)
I ain't feelin' so stressed
Ain't gon' settle just like this ack would
Smack the shit out of that boy
Just like his dad would
My momma don't want me servin' packs
But she know that I'm damn good
I move a fifty pack, posted in the damn hood
(Ay) we 'a bleed them nigga's block until
We ran out of bullets
Walk a pussy nigga down
And then I stand and pull it
Got that FN in my pocket
Hit him in his hoodie
Yeah, this dawg so strong
That bitch need a mullet (Ay)
When I'm fuckin' on his bitch
She want me 'grab her hair and pull it
I'm a dealer blow the spot up
If you ain't tryna pay my muller
Mask on while I'm drivin'
Hunnid bowls in the trunk
My mans put this deal together
So I break him off a chunk
I just poured a pint of
Tenth in here with Rawood
Big choppa, that bitch flip a whole car hood
I got a laser on the AR, look like Star Wars
Took a hunnid-thousand to LA and
I bought all kush (Ay, ay)
Big AK, with a serty, bitch 'a clock pours
Bought a seven-grand blunt from
The cigar store
Steppin' throught the mud up in my Concords
I made it here today
So you know that's what I grind for
Got so much water on my neck
Might fuck around and drown
Oh, he got a thousand pints?
I'm finna buy him out
Put so much pressure on the boys
I made them throw the towel
Forty in a draco with me when I ride to town
Man, I feel like Mayweather 'way
I'm boxing up these bowls
Stackin' up these pros, and
If your price right, i get it gone
I can't love you baby, so I gotta lead you on
This is strictly bag talk
Go and listen to them songs