This is a song about "Bag full of money"

Blasting out some backyard

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade

And gave you a bag of lays i hope they taste great

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

Convenience stores being shot up just for a bag of chips

And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade

We blow jars of the dank, like bob marley was wake

Hopin' that my niggas see

Full of myself, but still hungry

Good rhythm, bad women and better lyrics

Bag of clips, i'm an addict, i like to spit kicks,

As she goes through the levels

It's full of gold medals,

On the slow jam of love

Boot full of the ounces