This is a song about "Ducks scream"

I get paper like i a mail box, seen

Suddenly i hear my m16 scream

So you don't got to wonder what i got up on my team

Death is in my dreams, death makes you weak bitches scream,

Theyre ducks, hides and theyre faces contorts and they begin to pray

And keep a tight grip for everyone waiting on the day i slay

Ducks with the quack quack noise, fuck all the quack pack boys

It was simple, it was a really easy choice,

Wale, you must know im on my stuntin shit

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

But, all you biitches look like ducks

Smoke until i ain't got no lungs

Makin me scream profanity

Third ward general, young cash money

I'm missing out on making everybody scream "whoa!"

Cause all i really wanna do is fuck and snort blow