Bag Play - Ace Hood

Hey, put a towel underneath the door

Open the windows up

Oh man

Don’t you call the cops, I’m smokin' on that killa

I’m so super lit I can’t even fight the feelin'

Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions

Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling

I’m on to bag play

I’m in a great space

Ain’t with the fake love, I won’t even handshake

The real niggas fuck with me, I’m talkin' the long way

I jump on the beat hungry, I make it a entree

I am not fighting the feeling

I gotta be one of the realest

Really though, one of the illest

Mentally fully committed

Ain’t no sauce for the free

Ain’t no land of the free

Ain’t no hand-out, let me find out, nothing’s here for the cheap

I’mma rise to occasion, every time we arrange it

I’m alive, nigga, get in line, still ahead of time with the cadance

No flaws, no flagging

Murder scene, new caskets

Boy, it’s feeling like the first time Frank Lucas hit with Blue Magic

God

Oh shit, I think that’s them people at the door

I think we done packed too much gelato in the (?) fool

Yeah, fuck it

Don’t you call the cops, I’m smokin' on that killa

I’m so super lit I can’t even fight the feelin'

Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions

Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling

I’m on to bag play (yeah, yeah)

I’m in a great space (yeah, yeah)

Ain’t with the fake love (no way)

I won’t even handshake (no way)

The real niggas fuck with me, I’m talkin' the long way

I jump on the beat hungry, I make it a entree (did that)

Ready or not, fuck if you ready or not

Niggas be talking a lot

Claimin' they hot

«Fuck is you talkin' about?»

Niggas they wanna be 'Pac

You could get shot like him

You know the flow on a old diaper

Ain’t no containin' a (?)

Cannot compare to a Leonitas

Phone jumpin' off-hook

I’m in my robe when I cook

I’m centerfoldin' my looks

I’m tired on schoolin' you rooks

Turned the 'telly to the trap

Different season on the raps

Smokin loud, trying to hold it down

Fuck it, neighbors hatin' on the low

Any city, I’mma pull up in it, make a fuckin' movie at the show

Made a killin' at the door

I’ve been living on the road

Fans feed my soul

Keep on feedin' 'em tho

I heard a knock at that door

Don’t you call the cops, I’m smokin' on that killa

I’m so super lit I can’t even fight the feelin'

Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions

Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling

I’m on to bag play (yeah, yeah)

I’m in a great space (yeah, yeah)

Ain’t with the fake love, I won’t even handshake (oh no)

The real niggas fuck with me, I’m talkin' the long way

I jump on the beat hungry, I make it my entree (did that)