Get In My Bag

[Intro]
Danny I see you

[Chorus]
50 racks in my Louis Vuitton tote bag
Foreign I'm doing the dash
She foreign with an ass, I'm trying to smash
Trapping I stacked up the paper like notepads
You trying to f*** my old bitch, you can have that
Yeah, Pull up to the party and they pay me in Straight Cash
Arm on my prada don't fuck with your broke ass
Act like a bitch and you try to come up that
Fresh as a bitch I leave out with a tote tag
Pop me an X and I'm fucking like Conan
Rich nigga even my socks are name brand
Versace my drawers, same color as Gay land
Rich nigga jumped off the streets in a frying pan
Whip up the dope go to work with my left hand
If that bitch I think it find out the highest man

[Verse 1]
50 racks on me got it in my bag
She give mе her number I bet imma smash
Shе foreign she matching my digital dash
I just be stacking the all blue racks
I took the pussy I put on a mask
Want to beat me but that shit ain't going to last
Hundred round drums when we catching his ass
Hop out with sticks when we jump out the van
Why he be afraid like the first day of class
You chasing that bitch and I get in my bag
Outfit they new and they fresh I be poppin tags
Thirty, I was in the trap house like Afghanistan
Yeah, young nigga getting your bag
Fuck all these broke nigga's, doing out sad
Cop a chanel, blow a hundred blue bags
Yeah, I get in my bag
Getting my bag I spent 50 racks cash
Fucking up on that Louis V and prada
Nigga's want to be me so I am your father
All blue hunnids, no white collar
Get your ass popped out that almighty dollar
Working the pot I could have been a chef
Trap house under the south crestlo dolla
X-63 with an Instagram model
I like a freak so that bitch better swallow
Put on that Fenty Givenchy tomorrow
I beat the the case like my name El Dorado
Came out the hole had to bag up my sorrows
Family members call me just to borrow
Nigga's is bitches they snitching to narcos
Mixing designers I fucked up the dress code
We don't serve Road we serve ten back the elbows
Hood rich shit plug meet me on Mail Road
Bad little bit and she paint and got white toes
Talkin that fuck shit you better get Geico
Bad mans I pull up the stick and go psycho
Trappin for light we overlap the gram-o
6 years old I was trying to serve elmo
Run with the DEA-LC no shelto
Pull up in the bitty like it had a red nose

[Chorus]
50 racks on me, got it in my bag
She give me her number I bet imma smash
She foreign she matching my digital dash
I just be stacking the all blue racks
I took the pussy I put on a mask
Want to beat me but that shit ain't going to last
Hundred round drums when we catching his ass
Hop out with sticks when we jump out the van
Why he be afraid like the first day of class
You chasing that bitch and I get in my bag
Outfit they new and they fresh I be poppin tags
Thirty, I was in the trap house like Afghanistan
Yeah, young nigga getting your bag
Fuck all these broke nigga's, doing out sad
Cop a chanel, blow a hundred blue bags
Yeah, I get in my bag