Various Artists - 20 Bag Shorty lyrics

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Various Artists - 20 Bag Shorty lyrics

[Jay-Z] No more reasonable doubt I've proven to be the illest MC Somthing's wrong wit ya motor sk**s 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 n***as 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 sh** except its legit [Hook: repeat 2X] Got a twenty cart shorty better play that sh** You owe me twenty baby better pay that sh** Got twenty bag son better blaze that sh** They said I wasn't seeing twenty but I made dat sh** [Gotti] 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 n***a 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 n***as 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 [Hook] [Boo] I am the writer of the third verse and it goes: Cool with the n***a huh, Fro main chiller Berg sh**, word sh**, I splurge with scrilla Absurd when you word spit bird sh** k**a Not to be perturbed with, herb sh** 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 sh**, raw sh** Soon as he feel that soft sh** he be like aww sh** Yaw broke n***as resot to gla** looking Opposites attract a** whooping I present the black cla** hooker, the fat a** booker Cripple ya staff triple ya cash hash cookers The past ain't never the last to teach lessons My peeps f**ing 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 sh** cost more Thats why n***as say i floss too much but When I take it off and such they say I lost my touch But b**hes 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 sh**ting She hit me with a feline (fee-line) a young cat, kitten My boy hit that sh**, now everybody splitting Even holding snowballs and I ain't talking bout mittens [Hook]