This is a song about "Click and clack"

Fortunado, the porsche apollo, wars'll follow

All i'm trying to say is get back, click-clack, blow

Statistics say that niggas with no father ain't going to be shit

So i through my souls into fl, and then i click to export it

He could own that, shawty, i'mma lease that

Unload the click-clack to ya fit cap

And all i hear is fuckin click, all i really needs a bic

Puts the pieces of decomposing bodies in plastic

He could kill without remorse, click-clack bang.

I gotta question for you man

Fill up the plug, lemme light my blunt

Until i here that click clack and bust,

Were they click it and vent shitt tha same way i click it and pen it

Sixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new shit

He look and then he start to click with his camera once again

But everybody is a g with the weed in them