BAG RUNNER

A hard-hitting trap phonk beat kicks off with Memphis-style cowbells and heavy, distorted 808 slides, Fast, crisp drill hi-hats drive the rhythm under ghostly pads and echoed school bell melodies, creating a dark, bouncy, and rebellious texture with playful, sinister undertones

"Damn Danja! --Where'd you find this?"
(Certified trap shit!)

Straight out the cul-de-sac
(We up)

Buddy keep a bag runnin’, whole block thumpin’ (thump)
Driveway donuts, neighbors press the button (snitch)
Preppy on the surface, money talk ugly
Backpack full, whole route look muddy (cruddy)
(Brr) Count it up, rubber bands hummin’ (zing)
Two phones, both of ‘em buzzin’ (ring)
Suburb prince, turned the lawn to a junction (facts)
Said they outside, must be bluffin’ (cap)

Mom text “milk,” I brought home racks (sorry)
H. O. A letters, I paid ‘em in stacks (petty)
Bimmer in sport, I don’t read signs (nah)
Buddy from the burbs still bleed grind (work)
Yard so clean, but the fit too mean (mean)
Bank app wide like a movie screen (bling)
Pantry got snacks, closet got beams (pew)
Teacher said “plan,” now I plan regimes (big)
Crew move quiet, leaf-blower hum (vrrt)
Mailbox full of deposits, some (yeah)
Preppy lil menace, collar undone (loose)
Numbers do laps, yours jog and punk (slow)

Buddy keep a bag runnin’, whole block thumpin’ (thump)
Driveway donuts, neighbors press the button (snitch)
Preppy on the surface, money talk ugly
Buddy got the drive and the guap gettin’ chubby (hungry)
(Brr) Count it up, rubber bands hummin’ (zing)
Two phones, both of ‘em buzzin’ (ring)
Suburb prince, turned the lawn to a junction (facts)
Said they outside, must be bluffin’ (cap)

Gold on the tooth, and the clarks stay dry (ha)
They post up lies, we post up buys (buy)
Buddy got grace with a cutthroat tie (clean)
PTA glare when the Surron cries (skrrt)
Blue bills neat like a private school desk (stack)
Shoebox vault, got a scholarship check (tuck)
I ain’t gotta flex, but I bench-press stress (press)
Turned one safe code to a DPS (lock)
-Switch! (woo)

Click-clack math, I add then vanish (poof)
New-age phonk, that trunk do damage (boom)
Line so cold, the cul-de-sac panic (brr)
Text “who this?”, new plug in Spanish (hola!)

"D-D-Damn Danja! --Where'd you find this?"

(Buddy… bag… run-ner… motherfucker…)
Turn the Surron loose, blow smoke, fuck a permit
We pop wheelies, tore the road up, damn it
We on demon time, cops ain’t catchin’ shit
Fuck a lane—money like a transit
 
("Buddy!)

"Fu-Fu-Fuck a lane, c-cops ain't catchin' shit
Fu-Fu-Fuck a lane, c-cops ain't catchin' shit
We on demon time, tore the the road up, damnit 
-tore the the road up, damnit
to-to-tore the the road up, damnit (damnit)

Buddy keep a bag runnin’, whole block thumpin’ (thump)
Driveway donuts, neighbors press the button (snitch-ass)
Preppy on the surface, money talk ugly
Pull up in the cut, license plate say “YUPPY” (bitch!)
(Brr) Count it up, rubber bands hummin’ (slatt)
Two phones, both of ‘em buzzin’ (brrt)
Suburb prince, turned the lawn to a junction (fuck it)
Said they outside, must be bluffin’ (wash!)

(Certified trap shit!)

(Yeah) Bag runner ‘til the day done (done)
Whole block hate, I just laugh, get paid, son (facts)
(Buddy in the cut) (fuck ‘em all) (we gone)

2967/7500

"Damn Danja! --Where'd you find this?" (Certified trap shit!) Straight out the cul-de-sac (We up) Buddy keep a bag runnin’, whole block thumpin’ (thump) Driveway donuts, neighbors press the button (snitch) Preppy on the surface, money talk ugly Backpack full, whole route look muddy (cruddy) (Brr) Count it up, rubber bands hummin’ (zing) Two phones, both of ‘em buzzin’ (ring) Suburb prince, turned the lawn to a junction (facts) Said they outside, must be bluffin’ (cap) Mom text “milk,” I brought home racks (sorry) H. O. A letters, I paid ‘em in stacks (petty) Bimmer in sport, I don’t read signs (nah) Buddy from the burbs still bleed grind (work) Yard so clean, but the fit too mean (mean) Bank app wide like a movie screen (bling) Pantry got snacks, closet got beams (pew) Teacher said “plan,” now I plan regimes (big) Crew move quiet, leaf-blower hum (vrrt) Mailbox full of deposits, some (yeah) Preppy lil menace, collar undone (loose) Numbers do laps, yours jog and punk (slow) Buddy keep a bag runnin’, whole block thumpin’ (thump) Driveway donuts, neighbors press the button (snitch) Preppy on the surface, money talk ugly Buddy got the drive and the guap gettin’ chubby (hungry) (Brr) Count it up, rubber bands hummin’ (zing) Two phones, both of ‘em buzzin’ (ring) Suburb prince, turned the lawn to a junction (facts) Said they outside, must be bluffin’ (cap) Gold on the tooth, and the clarks stay dry (ha) They post up lies, we post up buys (buy) Buddy got grace with a cutthroat tie (clean) PTA glare when the Surron cries (skrrt) Blue bills neat like a private school desk (stack) Shoebox vault, got a scholarship check (tuck) I ain’t gotta flex, but I bench-press stress (press) Turned one safe code to a DPS (lock) -Switch! (woo) Click-clack math, I add then vanish (poof) New-age phonk, that trunk do damage (boom) Line so cold, the cul-de-sac panic (brr) Text “who this?”, new plug in Spanish (hola!) "D-D-Damn Danja! --Where'd you find this?" (Buddy… bag… run-ner… motherfucker…) Turn the Surron loose, blow smoke, fuck a permit We pop wheelies, tore the road up, damn it We on demon time, cops ain’t catchin’ shit Fuck a lane—money like a transit ("Buddy!) "Fu-Fu-Fuck a lane, c-cops ain't catchin' shit Fu-Fu-Fuck a lane, c-cops ain't catchin' shit We on demon time, tore the the road up, damnit -tore the the road up, damnit to-to-tore the the road up, damnit (damnit) Buddy keep a bag runnin’, whole block thumpin’ (thump) Driveway donuts, neighbors press the button (snitch-ass) Preppy on the surface, money talk ugly Pull up in the cut, license plate say “YUPPY” (bitch!) (Brr) Count it up, rubber bands hummin’ (slatt) Two phones, both of ‘em buzzin’ (brrt) Suburb prince, turned the lawn to a junction (fuck it) Said they outside, must be bluffin’ (wash!) (Certified trap shit!) (Yeah) Bag runner ‘til the day done (done) Whole block hate, I just laugh, get paid, son (facts) (Buddy in the cut) (fuck ‘em all) (we gone)

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