Bag Right ft. Fat Joe Lyrics

Yea, yea, wassup ya this ya boy Joe Crack the don

Chilling with the homie Sosa

Bx stand up, Soundview

This joint right here is called Bag Right, get ya back right

It's Fat Joe, Crack

We from New York, we only pop out if the bag right yea

The reaper, the boss, they pullin up we uppin the straps right yea

Points on the board huh they Uppin the stats right

Yea she blowing the gang just like bag pipes

I was king of the land in my last life

Got the world in my hand cause I rap right

You can keep it if I gotta ask twice

If they reaching you know it's they last fight

And I'm preaching I needed the cash right

And humble I gave up my last slice

From the jungle I move with my flashlight

If I fumble you niggas is dead right

Put him under he dropped at the red light yea

And I'm in New York

You feel the love and the pain in my talk

I had to walk through the rain to get off

Better days hope it don't rain anymore

We not on the block we don't play anymore

You niggas could talk but don't say anymore

You niggas could start but I stay with it on

I leave with a lot cause I came with it all yea

A nigga fucked up but he stuck but he walk with a weapon

Any luck and he struck with a FN

If it's up then it's stuck on brethren

Run it up in a month ima made man

Shorty sit on my face like these ray bands

I ain't need no advice or the fake friends

I ain't do this shit twice we on take 10 ya

But we ain't the same, nah

I really don't wanna be nameless

I really don't wanna be famous

The money I make it's contagious

But I told you before it won't change us

I float on the mic I'm so dangerous

Yesterday's price ain't the same ya, yea

You really don't know what it cost us

AMG car we got more stuff

Yea we ballin don't try to indorse us

If we pull up we wallen it's all love

And I'm out on the island all good

Homie tuckin the iron it's four foot

Coming back and I'm buying my old hood

We from New York we only pop out if the bag right yea

The reaper, the boss, they pullin up we uppin the straps right yea

Points on the board huh… they Uppin the stats right

Yea she blowing the gang just like bag pipes

I was king of the land in my last life

Got the world in my hand cause I rap right

You can keep it if I gotta ask twice

If they reaching you know it's they last fight

And I'm preaching I needed the cash right

And humble I gave up my last slice

From the jungle I move with my flashlight

If I fumble you niggas is dead right

Put him under he dropped at the red light

You really don't know what it cost us

AMG car we got more stuff

Yea we ballin don't try to indorse us

If we pull up we wallen it's all love

And I'm out on the island all good

Homie tuckin the iron it's four foot

Coming back and I'm buying my old hood