pack

Chat up your lookin off your knee pad

 

While I am poppin' like a snappin' crack

 

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat

 

Fuck 2DopeBoyz and NahRight, shout out to Hype Track

 

The third one is mixed, white and black

 

The bummer is the fact that I'm black

 

The Jager in my cup is licorice black

 

It's Blacc Friday and I'm glad to be black

 

Shades dark as fuck so all I see is black

 

While I am poppin' like a snappin' crack

 

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat

 

Fuck 2DopeBoyz and NahRight, shout out to Hype Track

 

They napped and slept on me, man, I hate black

 

Into something with swag, nigga, don't be mad

 

And ya’ll better relax, talking bout that he wack

 

Imma need to know now can a brotha crack

 

But since Mark put a nigga on that lily track

 

Greed written on her face when I bought her first bag

 

And daddy's in the Cadillac

 

So as soon as I hear y'al on some real pro black

 

* Amalgam Digital download bonus track

 

Nigga ain't nothing sweet like a Kool Aid pack

 

Try to jack and I will attack

 

Catch me in the city with the trunk on crack

 

St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-town, Nap

 

Twista finna get up on the track

 

In the back of a Chevy that’s all black

 

Track and field with the birds, I’m running em like track

 

I’m that nigga in fact, paper tall as Shaq

 

Lying to the children when she know you ain't the dad

 

Undefeated GS and a t-shirt and my Leaders hat

 

Thats the end of my speech, I'm a need you to clap

 

? all white but the Phantom is all black

 

Dead faces keep my money in a body bag

 

When I was starving now it's payback

 

Can't win with a passive attack

 

Two times for the chicks with the right bag

 

Shit, that Birkin bag make the old dude mad

 

Fourth quarter, that sack; Fourth Ward in all black

 

I'm a rare rat that be hunted by the super cat

 

To getting rich off a dream, I throw it the bag

 

Know what I do: manufacturing crack

 

Sold Sega games, his cousin sold crack

 

Ball dreams of being pointguard was off limits jack

 

Like my old prom suit that I wore with the tag

 

Money in a bag, stones be yellow as a cat

 

Like Bobby had Whitney we was cooking up crack

 

But the fifteen credits had a nigga off track

 

Came home shit is real niggas still in the trap

 

I don't know why I'm even on this track

 

And goin' half on a motherfuckin' hundred sack

 

I can't hold back, it's time to attack jack

 

I don't know why I'm even on this track

 

I can't hold back, it's time to attack jack