This is a song about "Fanny packs"

Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves

Not a whack job that packs crack rocks in the streets

Leave it to the greats, this comeback elevates me to the level of bill gates/

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

Like the kind you find on cigarette packs

We getting money, you can face the facts

How i'm like bobby deniro, joe pesc and them cats

Lift 'em up and down like eight hundred thousand pound packs

And my man hatchet packs a shed full of axes

Better yet a genie baby make ya first wish

Streets is calling square niggas leave a message

Packing pleasant feelings cause my sandwich packs a punch

Lift 'em up and down like eight hundred thousand pound packs

Or just another one of my black jesus traps

Yeah, red bottoms, she ain't trying to dance

Right through his face, pastes his brains all on the packs