Jazz in a Paper Bag

[Verse - SHIRT]
I stretched four hundred over 6 years
Might not even sound that crazy now, but it really is
400K for raps and t-shirts 'cause my shit hits
I need another 400 but M's now or it disappears
Shit sound like a nigga switching gears with the tears
And I still don't own chairs
I don't wanna make clothes no one wears
Put on shows, no one cares, look
Here's what I'm thinking
Like, this- like, this what I've been feeling:
Why am I putting on shows?
When I can put that time and energy to going to other people's shows?
Showing support and who knows?
Is there space for these kinds of ideas? (This funny ass music)
Nah
Last night, I caught brilliance in the Purple Gardеn
Some things is worth starting, I promise Earth or farther
Stеrling Ruby in the desert, jazz in a paper bag
That's Tampio-style, I promise it's not cramping my style
I'm trying to sex you on the banister now, Thomas Crown affair
Go half on a brownstone now, I found some now
I'm looking into down payment that you put down
We stopping by open houses, I'm learning to close now
A New York love story, a true to the mud story
Nas on Broadway in the Range with shorty
I still want the gas truck, now you get the Tessy truck
I might do the Tessy inside, Range outside
I put what's supposed to be outdoor indoor, indoor outdoor
That's my practice as a whole, fuck that "high and low"
Long as you stay steady, the world could go plate of spaghetti
Keep your aim steady, that beat will go dumb when you ready
(Let me see...)
Four hundred thousand dollars is not a lot of paper
Ten years later, the envy of a hater, send me a prayer
They killed Pop Smoke, they killed-
They killed dude on the death row
He wasn't even guilty, they'll for sure kill me