This is a song about "Good pump"

Aye, hold your head homie, look

Or maybe i'm just too good

But yo i pack pump, when i'm walking in my own direction,

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

That's because thats these compton streets was built not to win

But yo i pack pump, when i'm walking in my own direction,

From the time that you stole my heart

Puns char the bar pump cigars hard

Chica-go-getter from odd future, used to ride solo

I get an itch when i hit shows or pump the studio with mad flow,

With the pump on my side, and my nine mr. no luck.

I got class and can't take this bitch to math, what

Good morning, good raps, good morrow, good luck

And i'm strollin' down south like good luck chuck