In My Bagg

Brown boy gone stack it to the ceiling
Hundreds and them fifty ain't worried about your feelings
Yeah he in the cut but ain't asking for attention
Like diamonds yeah he shining plus he smashing competition
Gotta homey from the gang yeah he don't fuckin listen
45 in his lap in case a mofo trippin
Mobbing like a G, yeah that lil vato grippin
Claiming up that set blue rag straight sipping and he rolling
Yeah
Riding around
White Tee 501s and he proud to be brown gangsta with his shit
He ion even make a sound
Flip a pound
Dats that loud
Packs routing like greyhound

I'm in my bag
And you looking hella mad
Polo to the floor
Haters looking like damn
Boy I'm glad
I left that fuck shit in the past
It's 50s, Ben franklins
That's them only friends I have

He in his bag
And ain't even trying brag
Mama used to scrap them cans
Yeah we really had it bad
But uhh it's fuck the past
That brown boy known to get it always chasing up the bag (2x)

Ain't even gotta ask how I live like that
Cuz I grind like that
Lil bitch that's all I Cap's
You fronting for the gram with yo fake lifestyle, while I'm Smoking up that dank at the bank and meanwhile
Fresh as fuck an Ese
Draping huh where you think I got it from
Creased up like the OGs do and I don't hide from none
Counting up my stacks hope I don't see no ones
Mama raised a lil hustler in this Southside sun
Bitch

RIP SLOW PAIN & ESE TOKER