This is a song about "Shotting bags"

Got a scholarship, my bags were packed

Fast money like zakat al-fitr, break fast

He pumped reeboks, his uncles pumped packs

I want millions of body bags

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

Way too big for my my fucking jeans

Creep with methrough that immortal flowthug passion got you tremblinglike death on the row

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

Yeah, i got philippe chow flow

Maybe i should pack my bags and go

And you are to serve the consequences of your evil schemes

Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves

Now this counselor is trying to tell me that i'm emo, she don't give a fuck

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

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

Hop over, run backwards, with a knap sack of green supreme hats