This is a song about "Colostomy bags"

Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves

That you allow me to work it 'til you know what your actual worth means

I want millions of body bags

I hate rap like kramer hate blacks

Shit, i don't give a fuck, your family looking for you, wish them good luck

As i pack my bags and head to mesa / where we getting our cake up/

Then im off by the morning i dont no these hoes im just another recordin this

When those trash bags middle initial was loyalty compare to yal backstabbing bitches.

Hit my peak, think i need a drink, cotton so bad call me joe. twist those bags rollin in dough.

In your ears as i kiss ya, on every curveslow down baby don't rush, i like it slow

That ice be onto my neck and wrist

The bags have been packed and zipped

In this cracked crack fag back slab in disguise

I'm a winner , bags for disposing guys,

Body bags are piling up, time to grab myself a hoe,

You going to the club though, you soaking in sorrow