20 Bag Shorty

LETRA

20 Bag Shorty

No more reasonable doubt I've proven to be the illest MC
Somthing's wrong wit ya motor skills cause y'all ain't movin me
I'm who you see musically when you want it done hot
Comparin' you to me is a lesson in futility stop
I paint pictures beautifully but niggas is near sighted
Don't worry about plagiarism it'll take them years to bite it
Which the greatest fears I don't write it
It just appears outta thin air like the information obtained by a physic
Like it or not I pay dues and expect to be paid back
Why the f*** should I freestyle I'm gettin paid to rap
I sling a track laid back almost till it's a sin
Tell ya god somebody's doin a good job impersonatin' him
J-Hova spittin game from the Range Rover
What tha f*** is y'all doin in da third lane get over
Slow ya rode up I got it sewed up like a tella
Relatively easy like Jerry Heller
Cream is cherry vanilla got chicks in da telli
Belly up soundin like mayhelia tryna tell y'all
Y'all know da style burn da town
Down and change the locale I'm doin da same shit except its legit

Got a twenty cart shorty better play that shit
You owe me twenty baby better pay that shit
Got twenty bag son better blaze that shit
They said I wasn't seeing twenty but I made dat shit

Pimp Gotti get da dues in them double down
Like them kids with tips who tops down
Bricks who get money quick see me
Representin bomb city on da bill block rockin' mic's
Before they get a mill I sold pills all night
The illest outta life got my mind on fate
Cause even on tour ni*** still ain't safe
I keep a tre eight on my left smoke a L for stress countin dirt bag lex
I be da X like malcom puff for now dunn east side represent wit tons of guns
You keep it real where you from
Cause where you at might put da dagger in yo back
Its like livin wit yo homey that be on crack
And fact my niggas know my styles phat like hoes in da El Dorado
My mind toatin f*** em duck em
Any thing but da main gun I don't trust em

I am the writer of the third verse and it goes:
Cool with the ni*** huh, Fro main chiller
Berg shit, word shit, I splurge with scrilla
Absurd when you word spit bird shit killa
Not to be perturbed with, herb shit dilla
Can't even feel ya for real ya tock ticking
Bust a rap or bust a cap hustla, stop flinching
You fresh off the corner calling dog shit, raw shit
Soon as he feel that soft shit he be like aww shit
Yaw broke niggas resot to glass looking
Opposites attract ass whooping
I present the black class hooker, the fat ass booker
Cripple ya staff triple ya cash hash cookers
The past ain't never the last to teach lessons
My peeps fuc*** up in the streets? Keep guessing
The ruger don't be coming to preach I teach lessons
Lotta kids coming out the wrong way like c-sections
Know the Fro goin flow even if I'm cross shores
F*** weed cop coke cause the shit cost more
Thats why niggas say i floss too much but
When I take it off and such they say I lost my touch
But bitches like the money I wear, its funny how they stare
Dumb bunnies with their cunning little glare
Shorty let me see the tail if it's really that shitting
She hit me with a feline (fee-line) a young cat, kitten
My boy hit that shit, now everybody splitting
Even holding snowballs and I ain't talking bout mittens

[Hook]

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