This is a song about "Fanny packs"

I’m just saying they’re mad cause i don’t make much

Packing pleasant feelings cause my sandwich packs a punch

Then understand that i'm the one, that packs a punch much like a gun.

Another ratchet got dumped, in the trashcan i ain't done

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

Cause i'm not about to sell me soul to live life moving like license plates

Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats

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

I pack more soul than chicago packs guns,

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

Left hand staggerin' on her muthafuckin' breast

Admit it you fanny fucks,youve studied my content

Six packs, or make a sick track, wallow in sadness, sorrow,

You know your son a asshole, but i hope you got those stacks though