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If I stays real 'bout my game, yo, brother, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna show a peek of my G-string, baby, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna flaunt my style, brother, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna keep an F on the DL, baby, can I sag?
(If you want to)
1976, Big hair, small pants
Everybody did the Bump dance and little ooh-ooh chants
Got Sheekies and big afros
And Heatwave playing on your stereo
But what about them polyester three-piece suits
Seamless with the platform boots?
Mr. Pimp Daddy in a photo hog
Had to grab your crotch because your pants was tight, dog
But squeezing my balls ain't cool
I ain't got kids, so I need my tools
No more Metsa Lot shopping at the mall
'Cause they pushing Ben Davis at the swap meet, y'all
And now my diznick got space
To sit in the right place and swell on a freak's face
But don't try to give chase when I got a stash
I gotta shoot, 'cause when you sag, you can't run fast, huh!
And my drawers has gots to stay clean, fella
'Cause when you sag, they often seem wella
I don't know about your clients and your tight shorts
Your girl might jock, but your dick is like crushed pork
Because your pants is too tight, genius
Your shirt's tucked in, you wanna smother your penis
But I got room to breathe, keeping my hand and knees
Oh, sagging-ass khakis
If I stays real 'bout my game, yo, brother, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna show a peek of my G-string, baby, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna flaunt my style, brother, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna keep an F on the DL, baby, can I sag?
(If you want to)
The sagga make it stagger with a big boss swagger
Lean to the left, pose like a true mack
And parents in the suburbs trip
'Cause their kids got they 501s drooping off they hips
In the 'burbs, it's a style thing
But for me, it's a thing about my dang-a-lang hang
Got my fly unzipped, cool breeze on my tip
So to hell with the snug fit, let the pants slip
Kinda sloppy, plus the cops wanna stop me
And drop me because my pants hang and I'm cocky
Stereotypes got my whole hood nagging
But you don't talk that shit when your plumber be sagging
So I'ma go on and strut my black butt
And keep my BVDs in your face, so what's up?
Got room for my four-by-four Desert Eagle
It's not illegal, so don't try to be no hero
Because you don't like my look
You call me a crook, but your pants is in your nook-nook
So when I'm watching my truck, I bend over
You get closer, sniff, now that's crack
If I stays real 'bout my game, yo, brother, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna show a peek of my G-string, baby, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna flaunt my style, brother, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna keep an F on the DL, baby, can I sag?
(If you want to)
Crease beyond belief, it's your chief boot-knocker
Suckers'll mock you, but they can't stop you
But I don't sag 'cause I'm cool
I got a gut, so I gotta give it room, fool
So ease my bizel to my nizzle
And what's up, young buck? This shit don't sag tough
I'm drooping like a baller as I dismiss punks
When my mom comes around, I pull 'em up, I can't front
The bourgeois girls can't take
The way I hang loose, fuck uptight and the fake
But my middle is long and my game is strong
So why play, Mr. Trap? Get your sag on
And when I walk, I can feel things swinging
Played out cops still claiming I'm slanging
My T-shirt's a triple X, a straight lace back
My pants droop, sagging tough with my Gore-Tex
If I stays real 'bout my game, yo, brother, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna show a peek of my G-string, baby, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna flaunt my style, brother, can I sag?
(If you want to)
If I wanna keep an F on the DL, baby, can I sag?
(If you want to)
Switch it up!
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