"Run That Bag Up" lyrics

French Montana
They ain't gone like you

Everything y'all niggas do, I don't do
I do the other thing
Every day y'all niggas [?] going up
[?] I do other things, you know?
I don't do what y'all niggas [?]
I don't do what niggas do
I don't watch niggas [?]
I don't care
I just do what I do
[?]

I put my right hand to God
It's a lesson in depression when the fam's involved
Can't stress it on the edge but got plans to ball
Tuck the bread in case the feds take the land and cars
Broke her heart, now she one of them Bloods, body [?] full of drugs
Left them drying, ask time for the flood
Feeling like Big L on them corners of Lennox
Promise ain't make a dollar off them memes and gimmicks
Let me finish, you can have it back before these diamonds dancing
We was taking chances, smoking cancer and flipping packs
Verse one, chapter four, page six
Whipping raw, bad bitches chop bricks

Run that bag up, run that bag up
Run that bag up
Load up the box, trap out the van
Fuck her she toxic, God had the plan
Run that bag up, run up the bag
I'm in that turtle top, shells fly out the back

I throw that bag up then put your head on your lap
We ain't beef on computers, I hop out with the mac
Talking body after body, still fuck with Juliani
They don't wanna see nobody get a brand new Bugatti
I be high, shorty tryna look in my eyes
But I ain't that, I was hustling, they was born to money
And that ain't fair, we was feeling like God don't love us
Now we sign black and white and cop the coupes in colors
Man I feel like John Gotti when he killed Castellano
Tryna cop a crib, build the gate and wall like Donald
From the mud, we ain't dried yet, gave 'em the biggest wave
We ain't get to flowers yet, two hour set
All hits, more straps, more licks, more movies
More flicks, more money, more bricks

Run that bag up, run that bag up
Run that bag up
Load up the box, trap out the van
Fuck her she toxic, God had the plan
Run that bag up, run up the bag
I'm in that turtle top, shells fly out the back