This is a song about "Goon bags"

Inducing my movements / as i'm improving my fusing on tracks

One, two, three little fags, they fuck with my homies so i grab out the body bags,

To go from sellin’ bags to bottles right out the store

Lot of tough talk personas, they ain’t really built for war

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

Bags under my 'isaac', grinding to the laws of motion

Ok i’m wale but you can call me nada

Come to the toor yard and my goon a give ya

Like bobby had whitney we was cooking up crack

Back-to-back packin' bags back and forth with fifths of jack

Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves

I'll get u tagged like bags at boutiques//

She like me from that no hands but i'mma need her to use no teeth

Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves

I hate rap like kramer hate blacks

And blastin' to snatch you fags like hand bags