From the recording Lost In My Bag
If I'm a dog you know I'm yours then
I got supa hot fire for ya just to douse it I need cold swims
You say I turned back to the old him
I'm out here preaching to the choir like a catholic and them old hythyms
I'm too qualified to date scrubs
Bitch I chase bags, ion chase love
Niggas pressed for pussy, slipping date drugs
I pray them type of niggas catch a stray slug
I pray I get to tell a cracker better pay up
Talking on the inflation
Business cut throat besides Ever since Donald trump took the oath crackers coming out The woodwork to bluntly let us know the racist
And not to mention it's some niggas hatin''
"What's the moves he creatin"
"What's the mood that he laced with"
"I heard a boom out the basement"
"And why you never let us know the operation?"
Lotta questions not a answer to spare
I remember last year most these niggas ain't care
I gotta hop in my bag and lost in it
I ain't Alice but this wonderland
Lotta scales lotta rubber bands
Lotta clientele they on demand
Upper echelon bitches pull up on command
I'm out here tryna run 100 bands
Bags full of weed smelling stank niggas thought I was the garbage man
Or I'm looking like a real target
But these Marc ass niggas ain't marksmen
And these hoes couldn't really get a first or second thought when
You and this music is what's I really in my heart in