This is a song about "Fat stacks"

Now i'm feeling like huell sleeping on fat stacks

87, brick fare, yeah, i’m talking thirty racks

Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats

She paying to fuck me, while you waste your stacks.

Fat bars ziggys trips and vodka....

I can always depend on my mama

But what if they were in our shoes without their stacks

The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my slacks

Tryin' to make iti only got one chance

Cuz i got too many stacks

Crap rappers wear gold chains and hold stacks

It's odd that they say that the crack kill blacks

I'll #stretch this #mark like belly fat

St. louis, detroit, chi-town, nap

My jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap

I shall entrap, your ass, its fat