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Mick Jenkins – Rags lyrics
[Verse 1: Mick Jenkins]
Yeah yeah yeah
Stepped up out the Gucci store with the tall bag
Feeling like a tall glass of water, fuck the holsters though
Looking at me all cheaply
And I ain't even looking for the price tag or my receipt
Bitch you got me fucked up
But let me digress
You read the transcript its more reader's digest than poems really
This ain't Poseidon, its more Noah really
A Joakim went triple double him was going silly
Gotta face the facts with this
I'm multi-faceted
From the Atlantic to the Pacific
You catch me everything but pacifist
We smoking strong
Like bad flatulence we passing gas
I'm mad adamant about that
Don't ever doubt that
You looking for cheese, you end up in mousetraps
You running with leeches you end up with Count Dracs
The type who like your North Face
You end up coming up out that
Niggas lucky I was never 'bout that
I'm with my American plug at European outlets
Seven hours ahead so this shit ain't out yet ow
[Hook: Mick Jenkins]
How you like me now, got to wipe me down
Even your moms think I'm clean, who's the mother fuckin' hypebeast now
Yeah
Blowing bags on these rags just to feel myself
What
Blowing bags on these rags just to feel myself
What
Yeah
[Verse 2: Mick Jenkins]
Blowing bags on these rags just to feel myself
I was thrifting when I wasn't out here sipping on wealth
Copping bags of them rags just to feel myself
I had the thrift shop rockin' before Macklemore bit a nigga
[Verse 3: Mick Jenkins]
Uh
Bitter figures these days, you niggas move so
On my sumo, we don't do no pseudo-science
Wrist on Michael Rousseau
No jewels on me
We no fools homie
See the squares but we looking for loopholes
Numero uno, fuck who you know
I pull the draw before I play it cool though
Just off the niggas who won't complete the mission
I need submission like we doing judo
And got the llama you throw off my groove
This ain't Cuzco you fucking with
I don't usually hold heat like makeshift oven mitts
But I get the job done
I'm not one to freeze up, no polio
Napolean complex never hit my logic
Diversifying my portfolio, securing profits
And all that's just residual knowledge like fuck college
Ay
Fuck lemon pledge my shit polished, I'm not Amish
I been modest as them though
Although I ride the tempo like Waldo
You can't find him until you spot him
And the you can't stop looking at that spot
Sure I'm looking at the top with my plot
Niggas on suicide watch when I drop
Uh
Six-five, look like Sasquatch in the drop
She got thick thighs, got a fat knot
In my pocket
Came from them rags with the colored tags
To them tags with the commas spliced
Check the price, nigga stop it
They say if I buy expensive shit I ain't conscious
[Outro: Mick Jenkins]
I don't really like to be around mother fuckers
You know
I just like to stay to myself and with my immediate niggas
And its kind of hard to do if
You in the lime light
Cause they'll look at you like
Know what I'm saying
Oh he got an ego
He don't really associate with nobody
You know
When you
You gotta, you gotta play the role
You gotta smile up in mother fuckers faces
You gotta go places you may not wanna go
You have to do things you may not wanna do
And, and its hard
And its still hard
I don't really fuck with niggas no more
As much as I did
Yeah yeah yeah
Stepped up out the Gucci store with the tall bag
Feeling like a tall glass of water, fuck the holsters though
Looking at me all cheaply
And I ain't even looking for the price tag or my receipt
Bitch you got me fucked up
But let me digress
You read the transcript its more reader's digest than poems really
This ain't Poseidon, its more Noah really
A Joakim went triple double him was going silly
Gotta face the facts with this
I'm multi-faceted
From the Atlantic to the Pacific
You catch me everything but pacifist
We smoking strong
Like bad flatulence we passing gas
I'm mad adamant about that
Don't ever doubt that
You looking for cheese, you end up in mousetraps
You running with leeches you end up with Count Dracs
The type who like your North Face
You end up coming up out that
Niggas lucky I was never 'bout that
I'm with my American plug at European outlets
Seven hours ahead so this shit ain't out yet ow
[Hook: Mick Jenkins]
How you like me now, got to wipe me down
Even your moms think I'm clean, who's the mother fuckin' hypebeast now
Yeah
Blowing bags on these rags just to feel myself
What
Blowing bags on these rags just to feel myself
What
Yeah
[Verse 2: Mick Jenkins]
Blowing bags on these rags just to feel myself
I was thrifting when I wasn't out here sipping on wealth
Copping bags of them rags just to feel myself
I had the thrift shop rockin' before Macklemore bit a nigga
[Verse 3: Mick Jenkins]
Uh
Bitter figures these days, you niggas move so
On my sumo, we don't do no pseudo-science
Wrist on Michael Rousseau
No jewels on me
We no fools homie
See the squares but we looking for loopholes
Numero uno, fuck who you know
I pull the draw before I play it cool though
Just off the niggas who won't complete the mission
I need submission like we doing judo
And got the llama you throw off my groove
This ain't Cuzco you fucking with
I don't usually hold heat like makeshift oven mitts
But I get the job done
I'm not one to freeze up, no polio
Napolean complex never hit my logic
Diversifying my portfolio, securing profits
And all that's just residual knowledge like fuck college
Ay
Fuck lemon pledge my shit polished, I'm not Amish
I been modest as them though
Although I ride the tempo like Waldo
You can't find him until you spot him
And the you can't stop looking at that spot
Sure I'm looking at the top with my plot
Niggas on suicide watch when I drop
Uh
Six-five, look like Sasquatch in the drop
She got thick thighs, got a fat knot
In my pocket
Came from them rags with the colored tags
To them tags with the commas spliced
Check the price, nigga stop it
They say if I buy expensive shit I ain't conscious
[Outro: Mick Jenkins]
I don't really like to be around mother fuckers
You know
I just like to stay to myself and with my immediate niggas
And its kind of hard to do if
You in the lime light
Cause they'll look at you like
Know what I'm saying
Oh he got an ego
He don't really associate with nobody
You know
When you
You gotta, you gotta play the role
You gotta smile up in mother fuckers faces
You gotta go places you may not wanna go
You have to do things you may not wanna do
And, and its hard
And its still hard
I don't really fuck with niggas no more
As much as I did
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/m/mick_jenkins/rags.html