"Body Bags" lyrics - T.I.

T.I.
"Body Bags"

I got my hand on my damn cock
And I coped a gun so big it could probubly kill handcock
I ain't a rat, me talkin' to the damn cops
Is like lewis Fericon eatin hamhocks
Imma gorilla but I'm slicker than a damn fox
Been cool since pre-school playin' in the sand box
Imma hustla I used to hand tha gram na'
I can stand on the corner sellin gram after gram ha'
And no I'm not from Japan ha'
It just look like its asian in me/ 'cause I keep the hasian in me
I been in jail, I got a couple 100 dayz ^ n me
But I still keep the ak and the razor wit me
I ball hard so other ballers is afraid to stick me
'Cause if I get fouled ill probubly shoot the teck
And you can be the next nigga ill shoot to def
I wild-out, But if I foul out ill shoot the ref
I'm happy when I'm in the coupe' but the roof depressed
'Cause I always put them down the trunk is where I put them now
I got doe, ever since 0 put a pound in my hand
I been the man, you should put the crown on my dome
I'm on the phone havin' conference callz/ wit millionare "yeah" looked what I accomplished y'all
And I ain't tryna take a life I got a contience y'all
Plus the cops send you ^ north like the compass y'all
I was 17 living out in yanker y'all
Signed to RuffRiders wit a flow that was bonkers y'all
I can even lie, you can BMY, you can ask swiss too, SB and kiss too

You can ask DMX, the female Pitt 2/ and they'll let you know all the battles I had to get threw
You can ask dragon sheek about how I had to eat
Thousands of muff**kaz, YUP, man I had the streets
But ain't no money in battlin'
And I had to eat
I can spit reckless but I had to make a hit record
And now I make hit record after hit record/ And I make chicks get naked like this check it
I juss lick my lips on some LL shit
And make em' laugh on some david chappelle shit
And they be on some lets go to the hotel shit
And I give em' hard dick on some just got out of jail shit
The innocent man, been in the Can
And I neva made a statement never been on the stand
And it's all about the benjamins man... real talk
And you dude can't walk in my timbalands man
And m y sneaks don't fit you/ the streets don't fuck wit you
And I sip champain
And I throw back shots
And smoke pot the color of a Apple Jacks box
I rap but I sold crack rocks
And had the block jumpin' like the frogs on the honey smacks box
You digg em"...body bags!