Foreign Beggars - Goon Bags lyrics

[Verse 1: Metropolis] Friday night, street's packed Headed out, no plans to reach back Thoughts of a tongue tied, meet with yads Hold up to the sunrise, breach the flat Call the mandem like "Where you at?" Cross the tracks, we ain't afraid of that We are spraying tags, we done drained the yat Got a buzz cause a man found gates to crash We green light, wave flag Out of the flash like we race drag Blow thick smoke out a chain of f*gs Can be sipping on shots till I faint and gag I'mma raid the bar when she serving them Pa** out the bottle, can we merk the ten? Heads swimming hard in a swirl of Gin Wake up in a daze that can work again [Verse 2: Orifice Vulgatron] Goon bags, loose yats Run up in your flats with your goose flats That new crack, just swagger Crewboard looking like lil' blaggers Bellboy, no looks Flipped on the fifth of those gold manors Name ain't written in no books We ain't leaving till hoes bladdered Wise living, loose world Lifestyle brimming with loose girls Live women, choose swerve Mans all peeking on two thirds Three Q's, one milli G dubs speaking like hillbillies Still illy, f** father Your b**h calling me godfather [Hook: Metropolis x4] Put it, in a Bag, zip it Shut it, get that Paper, moving [Interlude x2] (We bring goon bags, brother we gon' do blags Got that true swag, everything with new tags) [Verse 3: Orifice Vulgatron] This be that, new sh** Old dog flipping new tricks Out here living like two hicks Chicks all skinny like toothpicks Camera's on, it don't prove sh** Crack it on and you'll choose dick Dash it on and you'll move with Tag along and you'll get used quick Tag along and get moved on Move along or get moved to I ain't out here trying to make a friend So say your piece so I'mma school through New school? f** a plan I'mma move on so f** a fight Man like us stay out of sight, out of mind Plus, I'm out tonight [Verse 4: Metropolis] Hangover, hurt like my head's crushed by a Land Rover So I go for the boot till a man sober I'm in the zone, I sip petrone, I hit the drone Smoke spliffs alone, won't shift In a paranoid fit at home, lets stick the phone They call in the blonde, fix my tone I might drift the void till my liver's blown My kidneys shrunk and my heart's a mess Five parts the tar, five parts the stress Surf the fine line, patrol the edge Scrape the foot of my sofa dreads I hit rock bottom and give to d**h Chain smoking rest there's nothing left Till I f** my breath, turn tucks for d**h Six feet deep, laid to rest [Interlude x2] (We bring goon bags, brother we gon' do blags Got that true swag, everything with new tags)