Trick Bag

Lyrics for Trick Bag

How they fly Pimp's sad shit, nigga You know what the fuck I mean Yeah, yeah, yo From quarter waters to cut water Your overlaw warm up water This custom order, you can't get it on Mr. Porter The engine roaring in the Porsche, the spoiler Nuggets with the big 50 pointers Picture broke niggas giving me pointers Y2C on the 2C, skate out of Gucci like Christy Yamaguchi Flip you like a samurai Suzuki I've been nice since Iceberg, shirts to Snoopy Shoes to Berluti, my knife work a thing of beauty We leave you in the 2C to bleed profusely Goofy, we be serving loose on the roof Dust juice and a Lucy, who slipped you a roofie? Cougar tried to put roots on me, but I'm not a newbie Could've been a QB, how she do the coochie Jet beauty of the week and Emilio Pucci But now I'm Gucci Now I'm Gucci Now I'm Gucci, baby 656, no, matter how thick, thou shalt not trick Yeah, uh, don't lie without yo 656, no, matter how thick, thou shalt not trick Uh, he buys you time out Those bright, sparkling time out All eyes for me, baby Yeah, yeah, uh, straight up Let it breathe some, uh Yeah, nigga, yeah Six, 56, baby, yo I bust my first shot and the jugs trotted on foot Threw the hammer in the lot full of trucks The job was washed up Bopped a rock body wash, hun, but I'm not washed up Diamond cluster, fuck, more rocks in the wash Them bum niggas rhymin' on a posse cut The Istiaki bomb was ox blood I promise you, bruh, that's not the pollen you want You're not with the drama, I'm trying to trauma dump Fuck up the fine, uh Chanel, Elmer Fudd, look better when I hunt I seen a chump in a cut, threw a emerald cut Hit the indica, flawless hit, it was a beginner's luck I will send you up on the wings of love Burn my fingers on the sun Fly your Caesar cut up to kingdom come Blast your arms, you're king of talk Six, 56, nigga, yeah Six, 56, no, matter how thick, thou shalt not trick Six, 56, no, matter how thick, thou shalt not trick He buys your time out Those bright, sparkling time out But believe me