"Bag It Up" lyrics
Boldy James & Real Bad Man Lyrics
227, Blockworks
Let's get it
Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks, made her tote the blick
Popped it like a major record label, I just want a hit
Started with an eight-ball
Then add Allegra, now I copped two kis of Aguilera and a half a ki' of Nate Dogg
Me, Dutch, and Pound Swally dashing with a Dillinger
In that Mercury Villager
Corrupt as John Gotti, feds snooping in my business, wanna know about this thug life
All I smoke is chronic, I ain't fucking with no Bud Light
Murder was the case in my ghetto, what your hood like?
Real bully boy, feeling like that nigga Suge Knight
Lil' half-dead with this Tech and a quarter ki'
Regulating on the set, call me East Warren G
I know some niggas pissy rich, did it off the loud
I'm the type of nigga shoot them bricks to a small town
Ain't nothing but a G thing, bitch, I'm living proof
Cream soda with a deuce, we don't sip no gin and juice
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
213 on my scaley, we the dog pound
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
213 on my scaley, we the dog pound
What would you do if you could fuck with me or my crew?
Break it down, bag it up, longitude, latitude
ConCreatures, we the new niggas with an attitude
Sticked up in the whip, niggas playing it close
Ain't nothing but a gangster party wherever we post
Bad Man, Bo Jackson, two of America's most
Dr. Dolittle, I can hear them dog bricks barking
Diamonds in my C grains, got 'em Crip Walking
Shouts to my nigga Trey D down in the Okey Doke
Thugging with a bunch of east-siders, I'm the new Goldie Loc
Holy smokes, give a fuck, we'll change his channels
Dickies on with some Chucks and a checkered flannel
In the hood like Mack 10, I'm where the Bloods be (Whoop)
Keep a pocket full of blues like I'm Dub C
Plugged with the D-O-G, they know it's C-O-D
A1, we got the formula like the D-O-C (Let's get it)
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
213 on my scaley, we the dog pound
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
213 on my scaley, we the dog pound
Let's get it
Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks, made her tote the blick
Popped it like a major record label, I just want a hit
Started with an eight-ball
Then add Allegra, now I copped two kis of Aguilera and a half a ki' of Nate Dogg
Me, Dutch, and Pound Swally dashing with a Dillinger
In that Mercury Villager
Corrupt as John Gotti, feds snooping in my business, wanna know about this thug life
All I smoke is chronic, I ain't fucking with no Bud Light
Murder was the case in my ghetto, what your hood like?
Real bully boy, feeling like that nigga Suge Knight
Lil' half-dead with this Tech and a quarter ki'
Regulating on the set, call me East Warren G
I know some niggas pissy rich, did it off the loud
I'm the type of nigga shoot them bricks to a small town
Ain't nothing but a G thing, bitch, I'm living proof
Cream soda with a deuce, we don't sip no gin and juice
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
213 on my scaley, we the dog pound
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
213 on my scaley, we the dog pound
What would you do if you could fuck with me or my crew?
Break it down, bag it up, longitude, latitude
ConCreatures, we the new niggas with an attitude
Sticked up in the whip, niggas playing it close
Ain't nothing but a gangster party wherever we post
Bad Man, Bo Jackson, two of America's most
Dr. Dolittle, I can hear them dog bricks barking
Diamonds in my C grains, got 'em Crip Walking
Shouts to my nigga Trey D down in the Okey Doke
Thugging with a bunch of east-siders, I'm the new Goldie Loc
Holy smokes, give a fuck, we'll change his channels
Dickies on with some Chucks and a checkered flannel
In the hood like Mack 10, I'm where the Bloods be (Whoop)
Keep a pocket full of blues like I'm Dub C
Plugged with the D-O-G, they know it's C-O-D
A1, we got the formula like the D-O-C (Let's get it)
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
213 on my scaley, we the dog pound
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
Bag it up in all zips, break it all down
213 on my scaley, we the dog pound
