In The Bag

(álbum: GO:OD AM - 2015)

[Mac Miller & Domo Genesis:]
Driving in the car, Sunday afternoon, chilling
Who is coming up to my car? What?
I know niggas think you white
And you not 'bout to go in with these bars, my nigga (Uh)
But that is not the truth (Okay)
Word to God, I take another shot of Hennessy
If you don't go in right now
I need your fade right now, bruh
What the fu—

[Mac Miller & Juicy J:]
Okay (Yeah), okay
Yeah, the hustle continues, man
Okay, yeah
You's a wild motherfucker, Mac

So this the music that made white people mad
Make 'em mad
Yeah, this the shit to blow your speakers out
This the shit you dream about
You can have the world, it's up for grabs
Up for grabs
Leave with everything, 'cause everything is in the bag
In the bag

When I was younger, I was just a little wild motherfucker
Tryna be like all the people on the television
They had all the bitches that I wanted
All the cars and all the extras
Anything money could buy, they was spending millions (Cash)
I was tryna get to pimping
I was tryna blow up, talking demolition
That boy got the devil in him, swear he need a exorcism
I'm all by myself, got no competition
Keep it real in a world that's filled with politicians
You want to talk about your problems?
Don't you wish the life you lived was motherfucking awesome?
Don't you wish you had all the pussy?
Too much money you could spend?
So you could get away and never see your shitty life again?

So this the music that made white people mad
Make 'em mad
Yeah, this the shit to blow your speakers out
This the shit you dream about
You can have the world, it's up for grabs
Up for grabs
Leave with everything, 'cause everything is in the bag
In the bag

[ScHoolboy Q & Mac Miller:]
And we never done with this shit, here we come with that shit
I ain't stressing, I ain't worried 'bout nothing, don't trip
It's amazing all the shit that I be coming up with
Shit is real, tell 'em chill, keep on bumping my shit

[Mac Miller & Juicy J:]
Yeah, all my life I been a fuck up, never did anything right
That's why everyday I'm fucked up
My mom pray to Jesus Christ (Jesus Christ)
Asking somebody to save me (Somebody save that boy)
But I'm way too motherfucking crazy
(No one can save that boy)
Yeah, all the kids is doing drugs (Drugs)
They just want to break the law and find someone to fuck
(They wanna find someone to fuck)
Yeah, nobody doing as they told (Little bad ass kids)
Yeah, everyone out of control (Fuck it, that's just how it is)
I'm self made, dream came true, I'm a miracle
Every time I put my dick inside a bitch, it's spiritual (It's holy)
Got the whip that say "wealthy" on my steering wheel (Brand new car)
Brand new model bitch made me waffles and some cereal
That's what I call a good morning
Your mom work an extra job just to get you Jordans
Just so you could show up at your school looking fresh, saying
"I don't know 'bout you, but me, I'm important"
I'm so gorgeous
You got money in your pocket, you the shit (You the shit)
You got everything you want
And bitches on your dick (On your dick)
Yeah, a couple grand got you feeling like the man
Everybody walking tall 'til they trip
They just cut the check
You had to go and cop the whip (You cop a whip)
Drive up to your ex's crib
And tell her she ain't shit (She ain't shit)
There's just something about the money
Make a motherfucker crazy
When I die, bury me in my Mercedes, God damn

So this the music that made white people mad
Make 'em mad
Yeah, this the shit to blow your speakers out
This the shit you dream about
You can have the world, it's up for grabs
Up for grabs
Leave with everything, 'cause everything is in the bag
In the bag

[ScHoolboy Q & Mac Miller:]
And we never done with this shit, here we come with that shit
I ain't stressing, I ain't worried 'bout nothing, don't trip
It's amazing all the shit that I be coming up with
Shit is real, tell 'em chill, keep on bumping my shit

Bumping my shit
Bumping my shit
Bumping my shit
Bumping my shit

Coming!
Ayy, open up! Ayy! Yeah, that's right
Yeah, a'ight (Quincy, hi!) Nigga, these niggas got me fucked up
Who?! Who do I gotta call?! Who?!
Yeah, they got m—, yeah, nigga, I'm fu—
(Oh, we gonna take care of this right—)
Listen to me, nigga can't park the car
Nigga can't go to the store, nigga can't—
(Tell me about it) Nigga can't text his homie on the phone no more
I didn't talk about nigga, that's the ticket
(Well, that is dangerous)
I'm like, "Nigga, I just got my L's last week," but anyway
(You just got your license?)
The niggas pulled me over (Yeah), asked me for my license and registration (Right)
I give 'em my license and registration (As you should)
Then he got the nerve to tell me I smell like weed (Pshh)
Nigga, you asked for my license and registration
Of course I smell like weed, nigga, I smoke weed!