This is a song about "Fist pump"

Or the crack that they sell to put food in their kids

Watch a funky skyline, pump a mic watch along it's

And we ain't hard to find is the tales that we kick

Fist pump chumps, here's to two beers, get too sick

With my fist up im towering

Get off a key like i can’t sing

Instead i misled, and i hit you with a closed fist.

That burden's on my soul as long i exist

When really i'm a virgo and the truest

Take yo face and make you eat my fucking fist

Niggas who be rapping how real they are

Jump in a cab fist pump at the bar!

Puns char the bar pump cigars hard

Snitches here don't got no heart