Lyrics:
"Slip out of that sad sack
Step into some glad rags
It's been giving me a bad back
To lift you out of your mad jags"
That's what they say say say
always looking for a score
Sag my pants 'til my sack bulge out my shorts like my 4-4
Showed up blacked-out to class, I was that kid always laying
I'll sack it out
Fuck it I'll break this shit right down
Since they been asking bout it?
Married to the streets won't chase no hoe
And you can ask about
proceeds
And most scream fuck 12 until they cop that plea
But this that bag talk, brodie got that sack walk
Out of the oppression grew a rose from
All out
Got the sack now
Cause I blitzed you niggas
Wanna start with me
Sub out
I justed benched a nigga
Goofies wanna smut my name But they can't
Could
the can, but we still hittin' licks
I get to the green, nigga, I'ma sack Chaser
When I pop out, niggas get gone like a racer
Brand new Glock, finna go get
with the sack then his back getting blewed out
All the city bitches in the hood getting flewed out
Give me top when a nigga bring the blues out
I just
out
Now wind it up, while I grind it up
Like a 20 sack, and roll it out
You can go anywhere in the world
And you know that they know about me
I
the sack, for the chef's out there waiting for us.
Goodbye boys, gida, gida, gida.
the sack, for the chef's out there waiting for us.
Goodbye boys, gida, gida, gida.
(Do you hear that?)
Got big bands, hundreds stacks
Fuck a bitch, gon' hold me back
Zev done had to bless the track
Hop up off my nuts and sack
Guns
football
Now I be hoopin' and somehow I still get a sack
Shout out to Ricky, he runnin' it back
Don't like Mickey Mouse cause I don't mess with rats
Dame in
the splat, ran out with a sack ya
Click clack, now we rid of rats
If that bitch bad, then that chick is Mak's
I can't slip or slack, imma get the racks
Want my
Unapologetically myself
Underneath a meat sack of dying health
Running out of time not much to be said
If there really is a king then off with his head
bitch
Quick to hop out with that stick
Rude put 30 on his glick
I can't go out like no sack
Glock with 50 and that switch like that bitch straight from
to tha plug
Snatch them sacks
Was out in a dash
No time to blow shrubs
It's back to tha pad
Before tha lady gets mad
Toss tha pack in tha back
Of tha rusty
a sack
I arent worried about shit cuz Im playing with a sack
Cooling in the trap just playing with my strap
Watching out for feds I arent tryna get
sack I gotta see a stack
I flip that sack I gotta see a rack
I flip that sack I gotta see a stack
I flip that sack I gotta see a rack
I flip that sack I
of the panic-struck driver
Who's racing to the delivery room
'Cause in the back seat his wife is busting out of her womb
And the sack breaks and out come
back
I had only a few things
Two hundred dollars
And my records in a brown paper sack
I ran out on Sheila
Everything's in storage
Calvin's right
the sack, for the chef's out there waiting for us.
Goodbye boys, gida, gida, gida.
just work at Payless
When my friends come around that's where the trouble at
Told em cool off right now let's get the money sack
Shouts out to Shaq
looking back
My glow up stripped down like a heart attack
My flow may be outta whack but nobody do it like I do so y'all can just lick a sack
Built out in
New York
Wanna work it out
Now I'm feeling 2 up
Now my sack is out ey
What the fuck is true love?
Building up portfolios
Now my mind on new hoes
I ain't
Discuss these sack out Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In