This is a song about "Paper bags"

Regardless to all them, i appease her

I'm gettin paper, yeah i get paper,

I'm everything that they call nice

The mirror, bags under my eyes,

It aint funny, they got money bags stacked higher than everest

You told me life would never, ever, ever get this perfect

Nigga ain't nothing sweet like a kool aid pack

Why i had white bags in my backpack

I want millions of body bags

Couldn’t adapt to naps, i wear caps

I've been so thorough, that's what i boast for

Yeah, that shit look like tissue paper,

I'm gettin paper, yeah i get paper,

Shit stress free i ain't even gon' hassle her

In fact my past is the raddest, filled with bags of grass and captain caps

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