This is a song about "Clips smackin"

Bag of clips, i'm an addict, i like to spit kicks,

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

To be specific feed the critics to some choppa clips/

I don't care who exist, the exorcist moving bricks

I got banana clips, eating banana chips, digest a rap, came out your shit,

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

Annihilatin' those, i'm rakin' but makin' dough

4 with banana clips, that 9 with that dick tho

Throw the clips in clouded never misses lesson 6 listen or meet sorrow

Where to begin when love ends on a bad noteor being honest make the trust grow

I stack chips, crack ribs, and in fact, i stack mad mack clips

She seen that geechi shit, ain't been to church since

* ron isley harmonizes throughout but sings no real lyrics

By feeding us these images, of bloody death and porno clips,

Stealing a clip for anyone squealing they lips

Not about the inner city kids filling pistol clips,