Soulja Rag Songtext
von Summrs

Yeah (ayo, that′s Nick)
Uh

You pop fake pills, who sold you that?
I ain't getting no bread? Who told you that?
Doin′ my dance with my soulja rag
And all my niggas got gang flags
We tryna get his whole gang whacked
I'm talkin' turn them boys to a pack
Fully loaded ARP, and the Trackhawk got red seats
Fuck the nigga if it ain′t me, I′m stuck in the drugs way too deep
When I look you up in your eyes, I see a reflection of me, yeah
And that's how it′s supposed to be

I was too gone off the tree, and ain't nobody higher than me
She was too gone off the E, and started touchin′ all up on me
In the passenger seat clutching on my G-43
It wouldn't be none of these niggas if it wasn′t for me


I was too high off the lean, feel like these drugs controllin' me
Two-steppin' in my Soulja Rees, and my chain cost a couple keys
I hop on these motherfucking beats, and get to singing like Alicia Keys
If she ain′t let me beat cheeks, bitch better pass me my fucking keys
I′m pushing this motherfucking Jeep like I got somewhere to be

Like I got somewhere to be
Went the fuck off on this beat, and sipped on some lean
Bitch, don't get too close to me
Amiri my jeans, got no crease
I′m with lil' Kan up in his SRT, he just got this bitch tuned

I′m on Roxis, shoutout Tune
I miss bein' in the O with my nigga Goon
Know that I′ma blow soon
Tryna come back in my life, lil' bitch, well, you is doomed
I'ma give these niggas hell, wavin′ my soulja rag all up in the air
Long hair, don′t care, if I'm sippin′, it is coming off the top shelf

All dubs, no Ls, movin' slow like a snail, it′s clean, you could smell
These pockets need a repair, my name ring a bell
Gang everywhere, come play chess on my belt
LV everywhere, Franklins my smell
Anything I do with you, bitch, don't take it to the ′Gram
Hahaha, yeah (woah, woah, woah)


You pop fake pills, who sold you that?
I ain't getting no bread? Who told you that?
Doin' my dance with my soulja rag
And all my niggas got gang flags
We tryna get his whole gang whacked
I′m talkin′ turn them boys to a pack
Fully loaded ARP, and the Trackhawk got red seats
Fuck the nigga if it ain't me, I′m stuck in the drugs way too deep
When I look you up in your eyes, I see a reflection of me, yeah
And that's how it′s supposed to be