carrier bag - corleone (uk) lyrics
[hook * deep green]
life’s kinda hectic, youngers on some next sh*t
every day they’re carrying straps
nitties always bunning up, plug said he’s pulling up
money in a carrier bag
thirty*six for a full box, fresh up out the shoe box
plus a little bag for the mag
missus on the telephone saying that i’m never home
might as well go marry the trap
[verse 1 * deep green]
say my vows to the trap, nah i’m only kidding
but it’s like i love the streets cah i’m always in ’em
a couple l’s, i ain’t acting like i’m only winning
dealing bits to feed my kids, now how’d you call that sinning?
tell my family i love ’em then hit the roads with my cousin
my little n*ggas ain’t happy unless the gun has been bussing
told him “put down your suttin and gеt your nokia buzzing”
all these bodies gеtting dropped, it ain’t amounting to nothing
gotta stay prepared and gotta stay aware fam
things up in my pocket, i can’t touch it with my bare hands
i came up eating dry toast and ravioli
i’ve been trapping only, trap’s my holy matrimony
apologies for my friends
in the dance and they’re talking bout politics in the ends
couple setbacks i forgot to mention
but the plug said it’s cool, he gave me an extension
[hook * deep green]
life’s kinda hectic, youngers on some next sh*t
every day they’re carrying straps
nitties always bunning up, plug said he’s pulling up
money in a carrier bag
thirty*six for a full box, fresh up out the shoe box
plus a little bag for the mag
missus on the telephone saying that i’m never home
might as well go marry the trap
[verse 2 * corleone]
the youngers don’t listen, they just wanna glisten
till they’re locked in jail, another number on the system
true words of wisdom from an o.g., been there
don corleone, n*ggas know he’s sincere
they said they’ve glamorised the trap
my n*ggas bang and ride with straps
nuttin ain’t nice, you leave your house and might not make it back
you put a n*gga on, he’ll turn and stab you in your back
now you see it ain’t nice when i summarise the trap
on the p*ssy stairs in the summer by the flats
whip the yola with the mag, give a tester to the cat
cause every time you hear my phone beep, that’s a couple racks
this is big boy trapping, only kilos in my packs
big boy stacking, adding zeros to the pound
.44 magnum put a hero to the ground
i live this sh*t, you hear the pain in my sound
and if it ain’t real take my name out your mouth
[hook * deep green]
life’s kinda hectic, youngers on some next sh*t
every day they’re carrying straps
nitties always bunning up, plug said he’s pulling up
money in a carrier bag
thirty*six for a full box, fresh up out the shoe box
plus a little bag for the mag
missus on the telephone saying that i’m never home
might as well go marry the trap
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