This is a song about "6 packs"

Your death's miscella-neous, say hi to mister hades man, these little games

Acting as packs of chimpanzees, a yack of bleats they ape and pack with bleeps in tapes

Packing pleasant feelings cause my sandwich packs a punch

Ore voir to the doubters, and a punt is every challenge

Seein' dreams in they sleep

Solidity concrete

No one notice your struggle

And inhospitable,

Another round what the song say

Arguing everyday,

She all on my skin

Suicide depression,

Not a whack job that packs crack rocks in the streets

Giving niggas the piece of mind to put it to beats