[Intro: London Yellow]
Man, this is fucked up, man
R.I.P my n***a
Man, he got hit by a car and shit
That n***a wasn't even payin' no goddamn attention (Yeah)
And you just killed my n***a without (Uh-huh)
You know, (Uh-huh) anyone ever noticin'

[Verse 1: London Yellow]
I really miss my n***a, he was just a little bag
Everyone called me a fag, but he told me I'm fantastic
They really took my n***a, 2014
I miss him, just to keep it a bean
Yes, I miss him, wanna see him again
I miss him, he is my friend
I remember when I first met this guy
He was so fly, literally, he was in the sky
Because he's a plastic bag, that's my guy
At least he was, until he died
He got hit by a car, some stupid white guy
Fuck that asshole, he's not fly
He's a stupid bitch, I wanna kill him, n***a
I miss my muhfuckin' n***a

[Chorus: London Yellow]
I used to have a friend that could blow with the wind
Yeah, that is my friend (Yeah)
R.I.P him (Yeah)
He's a plastic bag, and his name is not Jim
It's actually Jake
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake
R.I.P Jake
[Verse 2: ProBootyEater]
I never met the homie Jake
But I bet he was super great
These n***as wanna push it down
But he was there like "Cheer up, mate"
My dumb ass out there eating booty
Then I heard the thing got slammed
Ayo, dee fuck? Dial 911
They just fucking hit that thang
Been five years since he was gone
But he will always be with us
Look for us up there, my n***a
'Cause there's people we can trust
Too bad, so sad
I don't even know how to react
Hoes mad, hoes brag
Don't fuckin' talk to me if you like that
Bitch-ass driver hit and ran
He just talked and turned around (Ah)
Ah, forget it, it's just a bag
Then this n***a turned around
Booty killer broke his leg (Ah)
(What the hell is your damn problem?)
This one's for my n***a Jake
You gon' fuckin' die today
How many wounds? Twenty-eight
How many witnesses? Negative eight
Garbage disposal (Thirty-seven)
Man this n***a won't go to heaven
[Interlude: ProBootyEater]
Ayo, um, can you tell me, like, the number for 911?
Bro, can't you see 911 on the phone? (C-Calm down)
One on the top and nine on the bottom (Yo, calm down)
(Come on now) Right there

[Chorus: London Yellow]
I used to have a friend that could blow with the wind
Yeah, that is my friend (Yeah)
R.I.P him (Yeah)
He's a plastic bag, and his name is not Jim
It's actually Jake
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake
R.I.P Jake, yeah
R.I.P Jake
R.I.P Jake