Keep me a Bag

[Intro: C5 Tha Reaper]
(Ayy, Moon, turn my shit up)
All type of pics, all type of pics

[Chorus: C5 Tha Reaper & Good Finesse]
Yeah, I'm not really tryna do the romance (Do the romance)
I'm tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (Five in my pants)
But I still keep my son in my stash (Son in the stash)
Not in the gym, but I still keep a bag (Money)
I'm not really tryna do the romance (Do the romance)
I'm tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (Five in my pants)
But I still keep my son in my stash (Son in the stash)
Not in the gym, but I still keep a bag (Money)

[Verse 1: C5 Tha Reaper]
I cut ties with niggas, I'm tryna cosign these millions
Yeah, the vibe is different, you be dick ridin' niggas
All type of bitches, I got all type of pistols
Yeah, karate kickin', I'm tryna body a nigga
New swiss with the tips, I'm excited, nigga (Yeah)
I put the dick in your bitch, now her ass gettin' bigger
Exotic whips in the field, yeah, I'm parkin' different
I used to fall to the back and my life got richer
You better fall to the back 'fore you strip them niggas
Can't stand a button bitch that always wanna ask them questions
Dora Explorer with the Map, I'ma find these millions
But right now I'm in the trap countin' up chicken

[Chorus: C5 Tha Reaper & Good Finesse]
Yeah, I'm not really tryna do the romance (Do the romance)
I'm tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (Five in my pants)
But I still keep my son in my stash (Son in the stash)
Not in the gym, but I still keep a bag (Money)
I'm not really tryna do the romance (Do the romance)
I'm tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (Five in my pants)
But I still keep my son in my stash (Son in the stash)
Not in the gym, but I still keep a bag

[Verse 2: Good Finesse]
Not in the gym, but I keep me a bag
You tryna learn, need a pen and a pad, all pissed off, all that chicken on neck
Frostbite when you look at my ear
Straight drop of the Wock', you be sippin' on beer
I be droppin' hard songs, shit your bitch wanna hear
You ain't really gettin' money, that be takin' a year
Q-Tip on your bitch 'cause I'm all in her ear
I ain't fuckin' with you niggas, man, you niggas is weird
Bald fade with the wave, but I'm tapered money
All old booth drip, man, you niggas is bummy
Maestros for a steak, put it right in my tummy
Green light on this shit, so I'm takin' the money

[Chorus: C5 Tha Reaper & Good Finesse]
I'm not really tryna do the romance (Do the romance)
I'm tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (Five in my pants)
But I still keep my son in my stash (Son in the stash)
Not in the gym, but I still keep a bag (Money)
I'm not really tryna do the romance (Do the romance)
I'm tryna stuff this forty-five in my pants (Five in my pants)
But I still keep my son in my stash (Son in the stash)
Not in the gym, but I still keep a bag (Money)