Hating on the low
Better not do that there no mo’

(3x)
Run me up a bag
Run me up a bag, yo
Whole lotta bands
Buss the rubber bands, yo
Don’t know what you saying
But your bitch a fan, yo
Hating on the low
Better not do that shit no mo

(x2)
I’m drippin clean sauce (drop)
Bitch you know imma boss (huh)
I go and get the bag (huh)
Hop out the lam’ then splash (huh)
Oh, that’s why you mad (huh)
Cuz I’m having all these racks (huh)
Cuz I’m having all this cash (huh)
I’m drippin sauce with the splash (huh)
I fuck up ‘em bitches in the trenches
I really rap in the trenches (yea)
Black ballin like we did it (huh)Been too hype in the city
We dippin’ and dabbin’We rappin’ and trappin’
Finesse these n***as out they check (huh)
Drippin’ the sauce on these bitches goin’ ape shit
Cover yo’ neck
Hook:

Run me up a bag
Run me up a bag, yo
Whole lotta bands
Buss the rubber bands, yo
Don’t know what you saying
But your bitch a fan, yo
Hating on the low
Better not do that shit no mo

You better not do that no mo’
I’m probably on boulevard coolin with Los
I’m probably In-N-Out mobbin’ with woes
I’m in the noya boolin’ with my bro
Don’t care where I’m at boy you know how it goes
I keep that football like them pros
And I will not stop to the top imma go
They want me to drop but I’m like oh no
It’s time for me to go and run up a bag
It’s time for me to go and run up some cash
I want the Wraith, I’m in their face, I do the dash

Hook:

Run me up a bag
Run me up a bag, yo
Whole lotta bands
Buss the rubber bands, yo
Don’t know what you saying
But your bitch a fan, yo
Hating on the low
Better not do that shit no mo
Your bitch on me like my Instagram
Jewelry sick, call the ambulance
Remember I used to wear hand-me-downs
And I flew with the pack, ain’t no coming down
30 on me that bitch hangin’ out
If it not bout that check, I’m not hanging outI send that shooter to hangin’ out
Ride out the Sun with the kids til I’m bangin’ out
We kill shit, all my n***as drillin
Shock you on some hill shit
They say we hard to deal withI got my boots on
Fuckin’ these hoes she old likeSee my two-toned
My n***a live in a group home, you know how we do when we get on

These guys get mad cuz they girl in my pictures
Either we messin or you know I’m gon’ diss you
Pour up the ak, got this drink in my system
You know they my killers
I fuck with you bitches but look in the middle
Chew that up like a sausage McGriddle
I ring the hoes in you should call me official
Cool like a fan but the sun gon’ getcha
It’sa whole lotta ass, control all that ass yo
Got a pocket full of cash, let me throw a bag yo
And your bitch my biggest fan, watch her do our dance you
We be sauced up but drippin’, splash
We be on our dab like that
Hook:

(2x)
Run me up a bag
Run me up a bag, yo
Whole lotta bands
Buss the rubber bands, yo
Don’t know what you saying
But your bitch a fan, yo
Hating on the low
Better not do that shit no mo