This is a song about "Slut bags"

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

Lowridin wit the pistol by my side..i stay holdin my hip nd yue know i dont dance.!

Or backing down, come here slut, let's talk/

Money on the floor, throw it on a broad

That’s real shit, it’s bigger than rap

Why i had white bags in my backpack

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

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

You fucking mutt, tell me, can a slut

Under pressure i don't sweat like my pores shut

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

Scramble like randall if john randle was trynna get him

That's me spitting this fucking garbage toss

Fuck that slut, what would be the payoff

Word, absence will make the heart grow

Maybe i should pack my bags and go