Lyrics:
a '64 Caprice with the rag top
Ride around Bokey with my rag out
I'm the reason why your uncle
Got hooked on crack
I'm the reason why your uncle
Jaw move
LV and Chi-Lites: It's an SCC thang
Havikk:
7 7 7 O'clock I hit's the block like a G
A flossy drop top full rag on them D's
Bouncin' as I parlay up
instagram that mothafucka! (mothafucka)
Think you rich wid a rag mothafucka!
(mothafucka)
I spend that much on a tab mothafucka!
(mothafucka)
We gettin money
with the rag, got my fish from the boat
Gamble with robbers, codeine in my float
Smoking designer and getting some throat
Murdеr, extortion, and pistols
adding interests, bag is shifting
Nigga from rags to riches, ah
The scales is tipping, balance drifting, Nigga the weight i'm lifting, ah
From Scratch
with the Gucci clips
Chillin with young thizzle got the scrip
Swervin off to Richmond with the shit's
Thuggin with my priceless gudda witch
Soljuh rag
like a shooter she a bad bitch
Think her ass work at Hooters
Foreign hot girl, ooh
I think she work at Hooters
Take my soulja rag and I'mma
Slap her
Goth, goth, goth, goth, goth money souljuh
All my niggas art rich, I done told ya
Gold slugs in my mouth like
I'm from the 'Nolia
Souljuh rag bandana,
tears
Soulja rag match the gear
Why my souljas gotta cry? I
Got blood in my eyes
Blood rain, the hood cry
Blood on my tattoos
Blood spill for a hundred
å gjøre det
Drikker V.S.O.P
1450s OG
Beezy Mackaroney
Gangsta rap fikk Beezy til å gjøre det
Uh
Gangsta rap en fikk meg til å kjøpe blue rags
Gangsta rap
Dressed in rags of blood
And rags of doubt
And desperation
Held me close
Taught me all the things
I was without
Oh but I belong
With my siren song
I’m
Hey, listen!
Hit it up, hit it up
Hit it up, don't wanna cry
Hit it up, hit it up
Hit it up, don’t wanna cry
Gotta wipe a tear with my soulja rag
panned out
Rags to riches nah its riches to rags in Quality this game is really poor
Set goal explicit I don't wish it i go and get It don't do no wishful
the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties?
Why silks and linens of yesterday's gowns
To all tomorrow's parties
And what will she do with Thursday's rags
that song by fucking Rag And Bone man
You know the one that they are always playing
Where he's only got one ball at least I think that's what he's
From rags to riches, from an old Ford to a Coup Deville
From a trailer park in Georgia to a house up in the hills
Livin' like he did, Lord, he never
I feel like, aw I feel like (I feel like shit man, ahaha!)
I go apeshit
Wringing out your throat like it's a rag
I go ballistic
I can do it better,
at that
That's mo for me let's smoke some weed
Blue rag to the left that's the loc in me
[Chorus]
Hood
We lit bitch we pop shit now show me how ratchet
We up on our way
I gotta get to the bag today
I gotta go from the rags to riches,
I gotta go 'cause my mind on a mission, the come up is on, ayy
Mama
And gave his life for all my wounds
I ditched all of my bloody the rags
Packed all of my fucking bags
For this expedition to petition
Becoming a real life
knees
I am here again
Sitting on my coat
On red, velvet seats
This room was built to wrap its arms around me
Lay in the garden
Like a rag doll, baby
I
On that saklyfe shit, chasing bags
Bag
Want the riches, I'm tired of the rags
Rags
On that rockstar shit, tryna rage
Rockstar
Had a vision I hopped off
I don't feel complete with nobody else
She want to call the shots
You ain't aiming at nobody
Rag to riches like I'm Roddy
She wanna take a video
basi mere rag rag mein
Log puche itne gaane kyu hai Gum ke
Kaise bataye tujko kaise ye kahe
Tere diwane hain hum tere hi Sage
Khad ja ni mutiyare kinna
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