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|Verse 1|
Ole country boy from a ten mo bin.
Don't worry about things, I done been in.
Kinfolk gon' ride, we spinnin'.
Hit it one time, you won't forget it.
This for life, you see we with it.
Know we did, won't admit it.
No bullshit, let's shroom these in it.
Picking that homegrown banjo, pick it.
Jambo deep Django, poke your writtens.
I jump your ass out, whip it.
Hitting home runs, I swing for the fences.
Bust that bat on your head, I kill it.
Know who the real deal is, came for the millions.
Came for the billions, all your minions be like minnows
on the hook of my bait and I'm fishing.
For the big bag, pass it out like Christmas.
Jambo be Santa Claus of the rap shit.
Like three hoes in the sleigh I'm hitting.
Calling my shot, just point and get it.
Checking off my wishlist, dropping these hits.
Get a big bag and I'm dippin'.
Throwin' them bricks, ain't no slippin'.
From the dirt and we 'bout that business.
Get a bag for the missus, bag for the kids.
Bag for my moms, bag for my pops and his mistress.
|Chorus|
Bag for the misfits, bag for the one that be doing that bad shit.
Bag for the one who never had shit.
Back in the pins making their ends.
Yeah, I Do it again and again and again and again.
|Verse 2|
Get a bag for the missus, bag for the kids.
Bag for my moms, bag for my pops and his mistress.
Bag for the misfits, bag for the one that be doing that bad shit.
Bag for the one who never had shit.
Back in the pins making their ends.
Yeah, I Do it again and again and again and again.
Hit the ground running like bag it up.
Get my money right, pack it up.
That booty big, yeah, back it up.
Baby back it up, yeah, back it up.
Good Lord, I'm feeling great.
Blessings spent with the money made.
Everybody eat, it's a family plate.
You just need a hand to participate.
Everybody in my circle winning.
Boy hating, we won't let him in it.
This members only in a small division.
Separate the fake from the authentic.
These days I just stick to myself.
Get lit by myself, hit a lick by myself.
This pie for me and mines, baby.
Nothing left for anybody else.
Grew up in the middle of the bricks, not shit to my name.
Hit the streets with that bomb.
Just like Saddam, I put the city in flames.
Country money I'm raking in, not the one to be playing with.
I see you out and you owe me money.
You best believe that I'm taking it.
|Chorus|
Get a bag for the missus, bag for the kids.
Bag for my moms, bag for my pops and his mistress.
Bag for the misfits, bag for the one that be doing that bad shit.
Bag for the one who never had shit.
Back in the pins making their ends.
Yeah, I Do it again and again and again and again.
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