[Intro: Blue Pesos]
Nigga
(Holy—)
Put blowers in backpacks, nigga, do that
Take two, that was pathetic, do it one more time
I need that chain, please, and I don't mean to hold you
I dropped a four in my cup, now I'm slurred, please don't mind the drugs
It's racks in the backpack, don't put that strap in it
[Chorus: Blue Pesos]
It's racks in the backpack, don't put the strap in it
Sit me down to hell with the goons, I'm tryna chat with 'em
I don't really like niggas around me, they be back bitin'
Glad bag of Caillous'll get a nigga duck taped (Shit, for real)
Sit me down to hell with the goons, I'm tryna chat with 'em (Shit)
It's racks in the backpack, don't put the strap in it
[Verse 1: Blue Pesos]
Down goes a pump faker, bully breaker, lunch taker
Nigga, that's a hollow tip comin' out the K bare
Daishiki, she be loud out the door, she is so ghetto
At Kim Lee's lookin' for a meal, I be tiptoein', ugh
So what you sayin'?
[?], just use this rap statement
I just knocked the block down with F&N, I'm playin' Jenga
There's 10K in that bag, it can't tote the automatic, ugh
[Chorus: Blue Pesos & Duffy]
It's racks in the backpack, don't put the strap in it
Sit me down to hell with the goons, I'm tryna chat with 'em
I don't really like niggas around me, they be back bitin'
Glad bag of Caillous'll get a nigga duck taped (Shit, bitch, for real)
Sit me down to hell with the goons, I'm tryna chat with 'em (Shit, nigga)
It's racks in the backpack, don't put the strap in it
[Verse 2: Duffy]
Racks in the backpack, the strap won't fit
We don't even do that, bro, what if your shit won't unzip?
Take a listen, I could put you on some cold shit
Kim Juan finna catch these Jackie Chan dope kicks
You ain't passed on no Stinc, nigga, stop lyin'
We believe in the truth, nigga, not science
These some big dogs talkin', nigga, be quiet
Where the beef at? Bitch, I'm steppin' in with Johnny Rocket
Backs in the backpack, like why you ask that?
Police vibes, yeah, duh, bitch, we both strapped
Who is that? I'm finna bounce out, where my mask at?
Pole dancer, I heard he got followed home from Mastro's, shit
Head gone, nigga, they don't got a chance
PTSD, I don't think these niggas understand
Where my blick? Bitch, I need that right here by my hand
Boogie down, made him hit the floor and do a dance
Racks in the backpack, this a fifty-ball
Pippy Longstocking on my hip, it ain't no close calls
Who gon' come outside today? Let's take a roll call
Be careful, bro, this chain'll turn you into Ray Charles
Bling-blaow, shut the party down, I'm wildin' out
Hundiddy, that's a hundred bands or a hundred rounds
Nina in the front seat, yeah, bitch, I'm ridin' with her
Long live the Don, the grim reaper keep talkin' to me
[Chorus: Blue Pesos]
It's racks in the backpack, don't put the strap in it
Sit me down to hell with the goons, I'm tryna chat with 'em
I don't really like niggas around me, they be back bitin'
Glad bag of Caillous'll get a nigga duck taped (Shit, for real)
Sit me down to hell with the goons, I'm tryna chat with 'em (Shit)
It's racks in the backpack, don't put the strap in it