This is a song about "Alabama hot pocket"

A cold beast, nigga i'm the shit

No money in pocket

Jump in line and fight, n.y. to alabama,

In pajamas i snuck out to watch santa

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing

From tampa all the way to alabama,you can hear them donks trunks slamming

Guns in the waistband, blunts in the pocket

No less profit, themed when we drop shit

Never had a wallet, money falling out my pocket

Hypetrack that and send it, nigga it's a sack shit

I used to live in them trailer parks across all of alabama,

I can eradicate a village if you give me a beat, huh

Trunk fulla speakers, pocket fulla good

And when the smoke clears don’t you dare ask who could

Like how the fuck did we miss this kid's shit

You easy stealing picked pocket,