This is a song about "Tripping over my own swag"

Just gettin you a job then i zip that broad tryina get in them walls like ghost dad

I got a bad bitch and she likes to get dirty, i got my own swag and you know that

Flipping im outta my mind tripping on acid and wine,

And he's not fucking working, i think i'm wasting my damn time

My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

My own unknown is my enemy,

I'm feelin' like a platter at phillip's when i rap

Make a swag fag keel over when they know there rhymes lag/

Other dudes be huggin and nourishin her

My own pace, rocking the beat of my own drummer

Who the fuck invited mr. i don't give a fuck

Taliban swag, my career gon' blow up

So i, i stack paper and keep it ghetto

So i hoped out pronto, get my swag on a flow

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

I, own guns, got my own arms dealer