This is a song about "Fifa packs"

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

Niggas talkin' greasy, i'm the one that gave them they chance

Pocket with a cash full of bashful weapons

I pack more soul than chicago packs guns,

Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats

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

Not a whack job that packs crack rocks in the streets

And she throws up whatever she eats

After class: "yo. fifa. see me." but we know it's just for show

But even when you leave, somehow it still try to follow

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

Got a fuckin' blog that needs a post? i can get it done

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

Slang from dust to dawn, detectives act like they maniacs

Packing pleasant feelings cause my sandwich packs a punch

Though i'm chasing dreams i don't ever care for sleeping much