This is a song about "Freddie"

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

Ya battling freddie the red 'n black sweated lumberjack.

When thugs crynow i lay me down to sleep

With a freddie cruger glove peeling at your meat

And i ain't spend a minute up in the streets

Believe i'll freddie krueger up your dreams.

Sup on my hat like that motherfucker friendly

Triple claws to the mid like you met freddie

Wall street bankers' wallets get padded, remember freddie mac?

Every visit to neimans, i swear don't even see a tag

Freddie lips crimson and mistaken with the seagulls

Out in the district they selling water and buying pistols