Trix In The Bag Songtext
Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh
Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh
I'm the grand wizzard of this shit, boy, you live in this bitch (Yeah)
Gotta teach 'em how to die, 'cause I can't call it quits (No)
I got crans and them rittz, I can't be no average
Gonna be forever rich (Yeah), I already made a hit
You ain't makin' money, nah, you just makin' counterfeit
I got friends sendin' clothes, hopin' that I post a fit
I got girls in my past wishin' that we had a kid
Now they callin' me collect, down to Spain, in Madrid (In Madrid)
Uh
I no longer walk, I cruise
I no longer cry, I blues
I don't like to crease my shoes
Guess I got a high IQ
I got tricks in the bag (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Got the rabbit out the hat (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Shortcut to the cab (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Nobody do it like that (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
They thought they could touch me then I hit the afterburners
I was last in class, now I'm Forbes highest earner
To a plane observer, 9 to 5 worker
Got kicked out of college 'cause he was a slow learner
Think that's fairly odd, call me Timmy no Turner
You ain't call me up, I ain't hearin' no murmurs
Questions, whispers, I think got problems
I think he goes to bed with the demons and the gobblers
Damn, what a threesome, cookin' in the hot sun
You know what they say, more money, more problems
You know what they say, when they off but you on one
I'ma fuck the world up, raw, no condom
I got tricks in the bag (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Got the rabbit out the hat (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Shortcut to the cab (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Nobody do it like that (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh
I'm the grand wizzard of this shit, boy, you live in this bitch (Yeah)
Gotta teach 'em how to die, 'cause I can't call it quits (No)
I got crans and them rittz, I can't be no average
Gonna be forever rich (Yeah), I already made a hit
You ain't makin' money, nah, you just makin' counterfeit
I got friends sendin' clothes, hopin' that I post a fit
I got girls in my past wishin' that we had a kid
Now they callin' me collect, down to Spain, in Madrid (In Madrid)
Uh
I no longer walk, I cruise
I no longer cry, I blues
I don't like to crease my shoes
Guess I got a high IQ
I got tricks in the bag (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Got the rabbit out the hat (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Shortcut to the cab (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Nobody do it like that (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
They thought they could touch me then I hit the afterburners
I was last in class, now I'm Forbes highest earner
To a plane observer, 9 to 5 worker
Got kicked out of college 'cause he was a slow learner
Think that's fairly odd, call me Timmy no Turner
You ain't call me up, I ain't hearin' no murmurs
Questions, whispers, I think got problems
I think he goes to bed with the demons and the gobblers
Damn, what a threesome, cookin' in the hot sun
You know what they say, more money, more problems
You know what they say, when they off but you on one
I'ma fuck the world up, raw, no condom
I got tricks in the bag (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Got the rabbit out the hat (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Shortcut to the cab (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)
Nobody do it like that (Ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh, ah-ah-oh)