paroles de chanson Joggers - DaBaby , Stunna 4 Vegas
I
keep
tryna
pull
up
my
pants
(Uh-huh)
I
got
thirty
thousand
in
my
joggers
(Mmh)
I
got
the
pistol
on
the
flight
(The
flight)
I
just
flew
out
to
LA
from
Charlotte
That
bitch
ain't
get
shit
from
Christmas
She
naughty
(Hah)
In
the
car
with
her
head
down
She
nodding
And
her
boyfriend
gon'
act
like
he
with
it
'Til
I
put
this
four-five
on
his
noggin
Fuck
all
that
talking,
just
put
a
few
mil'
on
the
table
And
give
me
a
pen
and
I'm
signin'
(Bitch)
I
just
cut
off
my
bitch
(Why?)
'Cause
you
ain't
really
with
me,
be
honest
She
know
I'm
a
motherfuckin'
pimp
She
don't
get
steak
and
shrimp
B
done
took
a
lil'
bitch
to
McDonalds
Put
a
bag
on
your
motherfuckin'
head
Better
watch
what
you
said
On
my
motherfuckin'
pics
and
my
comments
(Bitch)
In
the
four
I'm
a
motherfuckin'
giant
(Huh)
A
king
like
a
motherfuckin'
lion
(Yeah)
Oh,
these
lil'
niggas
act
like
they
want
that
(Uh-huh)
We
gon'
slide
in
your
DM's,
we
sliding
Better
call
up
the
homicide
unit
I
make
'em
pull
out
yellow
tape
with
the
sirens
They
gon'
make
me
come
set
this
bitch
off
When
I
pull
that
bitch
out
it's
too
late
to
say
sorry
(Uh-uh)
Niggas
thought
I
was
pussy
'Cause
they
heard
me
singin'
to
bitches
like
YK
Osiris
(Hah)
I
got
my
mind
on
my
money
Let's
run
up
some
motherfuckin'
commas
(Yeah)
Let's
go
to
the
motherfuckin'
bank
(Haha)
Bitch,
I'm
from
Charlotte,
we
blank
(Blank)
Mama
told
me
to
pull
up
my
pants
(Why?)
Got
them
racks
on
me,
mama,
I
can't
(Huh)
I
keep
tryna
pull
up
my
pants
I
got
thirty
thousand
in
my
joggers
(Yeah)
I
got
the
pistol
on
the
flight
(Uh-huh)
I
just
flew
out
to
LA
from
Charlotte
That
bitch
ain't
get
shit
from
Christmas,
She
naughty
(Hmm)
In
the
car
with
her
head
down
She
nodding
(Hmm)
And
her
boyfriend
gon'
act
like
he
with
it
'Til
I
put
this
four-five
on
his
noggin
Uh,
I
keep
tryna
pull
up
my
pants
(Uh)
This
big
.40
hangin'
out
my
joggers
(Uh)
I
grew
up
around
them
apartments
Now
I'm
in
LA
like
a
Dodger
(Ooh)
Won't
beef
over
tweets
I
send
my
young
nigga
walk
down
on
your
ass
Like
he
stalkin'
(Get
him
out
of
there)
Uh,
leave
him
fresh
to
death
in
a
coffin
(Uh)
I'm
on
Runtz,
from
Cookie
I'm
coughin'
(Uh)
Always
up
like
I'm
booted
on
molly
(Boot)
These
lil'
niggas
12,
they
talkin'
(Fuck)
They
can't
keep
up,
Stunna
a
problem
I
can't
keep
these
bitches
off
me
(Goddamn)
Yeah,
we
bringin'
eyes
in
the
party
Make
him
play
with
that
stick
on
him
'til
he
say
sorry
Fuck
who?
I
beg
your
pardon
(What?)
Won't
cop
pleas
when
shit
get
started
(Nope)
I
keep
tryna
pull
up
my
pants
This
big
pistol
hangin'
out
my
joggers
(Wow)
She
eat
dick
when
I
land
Hit
from
the
back,
she
call
me
her
father
(Ooh)
For
my
bro,
I'll
take
the
stand
Hand
on
the
Bible
and
lie
to
your
honor
Big
dawg,
you
lil'
niggas
is
toddlers
(Yeah)
On
the
way
to
the
show
in
the
Sprinter
With
choppers
(Grah,
grah,
grah)
I
keep
tryna
pull
up
my
pants
I
got
thirty
thousand
in
my
joggers
(Yeah)
I
got
the
pistol
on
the
flight
(Uh-huh)
I
just
flew
out
to
LA
from
Charlotte
That
bitch
ain't
get
shit
from
Christmas
She
naughty
(Hmm)
In
the
car
with
her
head
down
She
noddin'
(Hmm)
And
her
boyfriend
gon'
act
like
he
with
it
'Til
I
put
this
four-five
on
his
nogging
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