Backpack
Ay, you know that I be strapped like a backpack
Everybody's tough until you hit 'em with the mac blast
She gon' make me bust like blackjack
Grinding everyday I'm feeling rushed to get a fat stack
Blue faces, tryna get a bitch to take to
New places, party hasn't started and I'm
Too wasted, we need to fill the industry with
New faces, good gracious, no patience talking
Angry money, mad cash. Thinking how much time I
Wasted back in math class. How much time I spend
Faded off of trash grass. Rolling weed inside the
Paper that's a gas wrap. Drowning in the pussy
Fuck around and splash splash Strapped like a backpack
Everybody's tough until you hit em with the mac blast
She gon' make me bust like blackjack
Grinding everyday I'm feeling rushed to get a fat stack
I'ma pull up to a party in my semi truck
Drip is icey, Ion even need a whip to flex it up
Fuck I'm pricey, tryna steal my shit these kids are really sus
To put it nicely no one be legit that I ain't coming up
Yeah, I carry out, but you get carried out
Kids that used to diss me, yeah, to them I'm looking scary now
I know that you won't miss me cause they play all my songs very loud
This shit is like a mystery wonder why I'm feeling so endowed
Show them all my medals, I get first and second, who are you
Sayin I'm the devil, I got fire beats, you never knew
On a different level, I got followers still in the queue
Put me in a kettle, Imma pop off, make em see me through
(Shhhhhhhhh...) Be quiet
Inject a needle in your gut, I put you on a diet
Respect that I be coming up, I'm feeling like goliath
Accept that I ain't frontin' but i keep my story private
Ain't gonna have no baby mama I be pulling out
I'm just tryna put some commas in my bank account
People causing drama so I had to pull the paper out
Live in my pajamas because lately I been underground
But I don't need no tips
You coming to my concert tryna see hoes tits
My gun is locked away I'm bout to free those clips
If you listen to my songs you know my emotions
Pull up to the party wearing free clothing
Hours spent inside the booth, devotion
My pockets always full I carry three trojans
Just understand I have the right to be boasting
Play the track back, strapped like a backpack
Everybody's tough until you hit em with a mac blast
She gon' make me bust like blackjack
Grinding everyday I'm feeling rushed to get a fat stack
Everybody's tough until you hit 'em with the mac blast
She gon' make me bust like blackjack
Grinding everyday I'm feeling rushed to get a fat stack
Blue faces, tryna get a bitch to take to
New places, party hasn't started and I'm
Too wasted, we need to fill the industry with
New faces, good gracious, no patience talking
Angry money, mad cash. Thinking how much time I
Wasted back in math class. How much time I spend
Faded off of trash grass. Rolling weed inside the
Paper that's a gas wrap. Drowning in the pussy
Fuck around and splash splash Strapped like a backpack
Everybody's tough until you hit em with the mac blast
She gon' make me bust like blackjack
Grinding everyday I'm feeling rushed to get a fat stack
I'ma pull up to a party in my semi truck
Drip is icey, Ion even need a whip to flex it up
Fuck I'm pricey, tryna steal my shit these kids are really sus
To put it nicely no one be legit that I ain't coming up
Yeah, I carry out, but you get carried out
Kids that used to diss me, yeah, to them I'm looking scary now
I know that you won't miss me cause they play all my songs very loud
This shit is like a mystery wonder why I'm feeling so endowed
Show them all my medals, I get first and second, who are you
Sayin I'm the devil, I got fire beats, you never knew
On a different level, I got followers still in the queue
Put me in a kettle, Imma pop off, make em see me through
(Shhhhhhhhh...) Be quiet
Inject a needle in your gut, I put you on a diet
Respect that I be coming up, I'm feeling like goliath
Accept that I ain't frontin' but i keep my story private
Ain't gonna have no baby mama I be pulling out
I'm just tryna put some commas in my bank account
People causing drama so I had to pull the paper out
Live in my pajamas because lately I been underground
But I don't need no tips
You coming to my concert tryna see hoes tits
My gun is locked away I'm bout to free those clips
If you listen to my songs you know my emotions
Pull up to the party wearing free clothing
Hours spent inside the booth, devotion
My pockets always full I carry three trojans
Just understand I have the right to be boasting
Play the track back, strapped like a backpack
Everybody's tough until you hit em with a mac blast
She gon' make me bust like blackjack
Grinding everyday I'm feeling rushed to get a fat stack
Credits
Writer(s): Joseph Daywalt
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.