In the Bag lyrics

[Skit: Mac Miller & Domo Genesis]
Drivin' in the car, Sunday afternoon, chillin'
Who is comin' up to my car? What?
I know n*ggas think you white
And you not 'bout to go in with these bars, my n*gga (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—

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

[Chorus: Mac Miller & Juicy J]
So this the music that made white people mad
Make 'em mad
Yeah, this the sh*t to blow your speakers out
This the sh*t 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
[Verse 1: Mac Miller & Juicy J]
When I was younger, I was just a little wild motherf*cker
Tryna be like all the people on the television
They had all the b*tches that I wanted
All the cars and all the extras
Anything money could buy, they was spendin' millions (Cash)
I was tryna get to pimpin'
I was tryna blow up, talkin' 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 motherf*ckin' awesome?
Don't you wish you had all the pus*y?
Too much money you could spend?
So you could get away and never see your sh*tty life again?

[Chorus: Mac Miller & Juicy J]
So this the music that made white people mad
Make 'em mad
Yeah, this the sh*t to blow your speakers out
This the sh*t 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
[Post-Chorus: ScHoolboy Q & Mac Miller]
And we never done with this sh*t, here we come with that sh*t
I ain't stressin', I ain't worried 'bout nothin', don't trip
It's amazin' all the sh*t that I be comin' up with
sh*t is real, tell 'em chill, keep on bumpin' my sh*t

[Verse 2: Mac Miller & Juicy J]
Yeah, all my life I been a f*ck up, never did anything right
That's why everyday I'm f*cked up
My mom pray to Jesus Christ (Jesus Christ)
Askin' somebody to save me (Somebody save that boy)
But I'm way too motherf*ckin' crazy
(No one can save that boy)
Yeah, all the kids is doin' drugs (Drugs)
They just want to break the law and find someone to f*ck
(They wanna find someone to f*ck)
Yeah, nobody doin' as they told (Little bad ass kids)
Yeah, everyone out of control (f*ck it, that's just how it is)
I'm self made, dream came true, I'm a miracle
Every time I put my di*k inside a b*tch, it's spiritual (It's holy)
Got the whip that say "wealthy" on my steerin' wheel (Brand new car)
Brand new model b*tch made me waffles and some cereal
That's what I call a good mornin'
Your mom work an extra job just to get you Jordans
Just so you could show up at your school lookin' fresh, sayin'
"I don't know 'bout you, but me, I'm important"
I'm so gorgeous
You got money in your pocket, you the sh*t (You the sh*t)
You got everything you want
And b*tches on your di*k (On your di*k)
Yeah, a couple grand got you feelin' like the man
Everybody walkin' 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 sh*t (She ain't sh*t)
There's just somethin' about the money
Make a motherf*cker crazy
When I die, bury me in my Mercedes, God damn
[Chorus: Mac Miller & Juicy J]
So this the music that made white people mad
Make 'em mad
Yeah, this the sh*t to blow your speakers out
This the sh*t 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

[Post-Chorus: ScHoolboy Q & Mac Miller]
And we never done with this sh*t, here we come with that sh*t
I ain't stressin', I ain't worried 'bout nothin', don't trip
It's amazin' all the sh*t that I be comin' up with
sh*t is real, tell 'em chill, keep on bumpin' my sh*t

[Bridge: ScHoolboy Q & Mac Miller]
Bumpin' my sh*t
Bumpin' my sh*t
Bumpin' my sh*t
Bumpin' my sh*t

[Skit: ScHoolboy Q & Mac Miller]
*Knocking*
Coming!
Ayy, open up! Ayy! *Door opening* Yeah, that's right
Yeah, a'ight (Quincy, hi!) n*gga, these n*ggas got me f*cked up
Who?! Who do I gotta call?! Who?!
Yeah, they got m—, yeah, n*gga, I'm fu—
(Oh, we gonna take care of this right—)
Listen to me, n*gga can't park the car
n*gga can't go to the store, n*gga can't—
(Tell me about it) n*gga can't text his homie on the phone no more
I didn't talk about n*gga, that's the ticket
(Well, that is dangerous)
I'm like, "n*gga, I just got my L's last week," but anyway
(You just got your license?)
The n*ggas 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)
n*gga, you asked for my license and registration
Of course I smell like weed, n*gga, I smoke weed!