This is a song about "Tropical bag"

That i never had, but wrote it in my raps to make you mad

Everyday i'm from the ghetto, put y'all in a body bag,

Surrounded by cowards who let the cats out of the bag?

You don’t sleep on nothing but a comforter and skull cap

, now u laid it down like its meant to roll, two wheels and a bag

I'll show you where my rare essence is at, the adolescence of rap

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

Ill bag you like groceries i flow ferociously

Fed up, so pack your bag is what you choose to do

Niggas plotting against you, hate you but never tell you

Stealing a clip for anyone squealing they lips

Upon other limbs it's looking like a bag of chex mix

Hit, i never call her back. bet she keep on coming back

Don't mean to brag, but i've got the future title in the bag/

Yo, heres a paper bag,

Where the black girls get their weaves back