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bag check - y$57 lyrics

[verse 1: y$57]
f*ck boy you wanna test me
bullet in yo’ chest piece
f*ck boy trynna beef
i pull up, like imma chess piece
this glock for you especially
you b*tches act so specially
i press him thru’ the dms
call the cops, cuz im his enemy
all these b*tches dip
i come quick
you a b*tch
neck slit
motherf*ckers wanna get it like this
imma show
what it is
idols turn into my rivals
you the one, target aquired
turn his clique into a choir
you a twink, that f*ck on minors
you a lame, you a goof
this my lane, imma gook
dade county in the roof
you say midnight, i say boof
imma beat you into two
you were cut
where the noose?
thats why x cut yo’ verse
you is washed, you is cursed
[verse 2: k.v.n]
that’s why you a b*tch, talkin’ tough but you lil’ bro
why wait? throw that f*ckin’ b*tch, out the window
aye, yuh, b*tch go f*ck yourself, like a nympho
why the f*ck you recycle yo’ friends, they like sh*t, though?
h.u.r.t gang, in this f*ckin’ b*tch, i tell em’ back up
all these f*ckin’ drugs inside my body, i’m boutta act up
we don’t give a f*ck on what it takes to get the racks up
yeah, i’m broke as f*ck and yo b*tch want me in her assh0l*

[verse 3: brxnd]
7.62 through your d*mn head
deflate what that ego inflated
make out a noose out mother f*ckers d*mn dreads
watch him cry with that critical damage
kami talkin stupid imma cl!ck him like a powerpoint
ridin on my d*ck i’m gonna snap his f*ckin ball joints
talkin all that sh*t i’m boutta shoot him like some steroids
sippin out the bottle freshen up just like its altoids
aye aye
how the f*ck you lookin like dyk* b*tch
why the f*ck you talkin like a white b*tch
sh*t up on a track better wipe it
boy you sounding corny better lock in
product of drugs you a product of failure
product of greatness your boy need a savior
walk like im jesus not born in a manger
stand at attention salute to your major
[verse 4: ganta x]
i do not f*ck with the flex
put (?) into his neck
(?)
aye
i take his brother, his mother, his father, sister and uncle and turn him swiss cheese
(?) put the blade to his gun, put him down, it will make my relief(?)
i don’t (?) f*ck kami, (?)
you said it was target acquired (?)
you some b*tches
(?) fit the checklist
you a f*ck n*gga, you a b*tch, you a f*ggot
his money has been tested, but couldn’t pay his bag check
skinny lil’ b*tch, go watch his dreads break his d*mn neck

[verse 5: omxnemo]
this rule number one you don’t go f*cking with my money b*tch
wouldn’t gave a f*ck if you had kept your f*cking mouth shut
slither motherf*cker wanna test and get your wig split
you ain’t tote no metal p*ssy keep your f*ckin’ tongue tucked (you say you a b*tch?)
rich pr*ck but p*ssy boy can not afford a bag check
chihuahua lookin ass you f*ckin mad okay what’s up then
why you built like paper go and hit a f*ckin bench press
you know that won’t help you i’ll still pop you like a soviet

- y57 lyrics

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