Correction Lyrics Body Bags by ERIGGA PAPER BOI

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Lyrics

N***a, (yeah), n***a, you know I don't f**k with them n***as
Them n***as pu**y. Sucka a** n***as
I don't like either one (I don't even like 'em)
But the other night I'm in the gambling spot
N***a come up in here - boom - hit the door
"Get the f**k on the floor, b*t*h, get down on the floor
" I turn around like, "what?" N***as like, "get down!
" (When was this?) I'm like, "n***a, I got on white linen."

F**k it, I mean we gotta kill what we eat, right?
It's not a problem, it's really not a problem. Southside

Okay, the dope addin' up, the coke addin' up
The smoke addin' up, my pockets are fattened up
I got b*t*hes in my bedroom, nerds on computers
Diamonds 'round my neck, straps for my shooters
I made it, look ma', I made it
I grind so hard to get here I can't be faded
I got lawyers on the line, five different kinds
Five different crimes, same .45
Got a plan to turn to premise, see, a n***a ain't lyin'
Cause they ain't gon' say I did it and I ain't gon' say I did it
And I might go back and forth to court, better bet I get acquitted
Can you dig it? N***a, can you dig it?
Sh*t changed, a n***a ain't broke
I had a safe size as a shoe box, it felt like a vault
Now I got real money, that "f**k how you feel" money
That "n***a, you look at me wrong, get killed" money
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
Hop out, hammer out to get at you
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
.45 lettin' off some sh*t at you
You gon' be put in a body bag
You won't get a chance to fire back

I peep my swag in the mirror, I think I got a crush on me
I don't want no wack b*t*hes touchin' me
Tailor-made threads, satin sheets on my bed
Get a b*t*h sea-sick, waves all on my head
Diamonds in my ear, Baccarat chandelier
Gabbana underwear, I'm so fly it ain't fair
Every day a different dime piece
Rose Gold, a different time piece
Hublot, AP or rollie
Your b*t*h and your jeweler know me, homie
I'm bulletproof, go 'head, take a shot at me
You be a dead n***a like the last one that got at me
My shirt level three so I ain't got a vest on
My heart like ice, my chest like teflon
I'm a nightmare right here, just me and my knife, n***a
Don't let me find out you ain't 'bout that life, n***a
It's doomsday, I mean goon day
I get the orders, like, "air out the room, Dre"
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
Hop out, hammer out to get at you
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
.45 lettin' off some sh*t at you
You gon' be put in a body bag
You won't get a chance to fire back

The mollies had a shorty a** trippin' strippin' in my kitchen
Push my thumb in her a** while I was strokin' her kitten
I be in my own zone, still clutchin' the chrome
Talk state of the art, you will see 'nine to foe
My pa**port need pages, I'm f**kin' round' out in London
Jetlag from jets, wrist lit baguettes
Trippin' in my charm, look b*t*h, I'm a don
So sh*t go how I say it go, f**k if I'm right or wrong
My paper long, bomb kush in the bong
It feels like I'm dreamin' cause a n***a on
I'm so far from a hammy down, I'm out in Miami now
My b*t*h no speak no ingles, she fresh off the boat
She give me neck, what you expect? I got connects for the dope
I'm no joke, blow 30k on the coke, stuff ten in the coat
N***a, front, I'll have a hand full of dreadlocks
B*t*h, I hit your a** with a headshot

You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
Hop out, hammer out to get at you
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
.45 lettin' off some sh*t at you
You gon' be put in a body bag
You won't get a chance to fire back

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