Lyrics Lost You - Richie Wess

I don't owe no one, I got my own damn bag
(Got my own damn bag)
Since a nigga came up, got my ex bitch mad
(Why the hell she so mad?)
In the foreign, new coupe, got the new paper tags
(You know I swerved on they ass)
Prayin' to the lord I don't crash
Spend that check like it's the last

I ran it up to infinity, I ran it up like it's ten of me
Only vibin' with the energy
Act like they cool but really they an enemy
If it's real they gon' stay down
With the same gang since the playground
You niggas switched like KD
That trap life didn't save me
Cash out, new AP
Hit the block, go brazy
All that I did in these streets, it's only right that they thank me
Applied a nigga, I'm my own boss
Taking flight then I'm getting lost
Out of town, yeah I shook 'em off
Catchin' plays like I'm Randy Moss
New coupe, new tags, came up from rags
Ex bitch still mad, still hate my ass
I was down for a minute so it's only right that I run it up
'Member they didn't show me no love
Now they need work from the plug

I don't owe no one, I got my own damn bag
(Got my own damn bag)
Since a nigga came up, got my ex bitch mad
(Why the hell she so mad?)
In the foreign, new coupe, got the new paper tags
(You know I swerved on they ass)
Prayin' to the lord I don't crash
Spend that check like it's the last

Pull up in foreign two seaters
Seventeen with the new features
F&N and dracos, got new heaters
Banana clip like zookeepers
I don't fuck with no new people
YTC and a few people that been down with us from day one
Ballin' on 'em, no layups
She want to fuck, can't lay up
The come up, that was the easy part
These new niggas never see the start
Young rich nigga, I don't owe no one
Got me feelin' like trust no one
Got me feelin' like I don't know
These niggas, can't trust these niggas
So right now I feel like fuck these niggas, for real
It's me and my brother, my brother and me (it's part two)
Hey, yeah (you know what to do)

I don't owe no one, I got my own damn bag
(Got my own damn bag)
Since a nigga came up, got my ex bitch mad
(Why the hell she so mad?)
In the foreign, new coupe, got the new paper tags
(You know I swerved on they ass)
Prayin' to the lord I don't crash
Spend that check like it's the last