This is a song about "Ice packs"

I swear these off rhyme bums are full of hate

Vanilla ice flipping real estate/

With shards of ice and glass

So chase the air hide your stash

Hypnotized the masses behind versace glasses

And my man hatchet packs a shed full of axes

I pack more soul than chicago packs guns,

And god blessed me with a lot of patience

So while the world goes drake crazy

Even ice, i , c , e

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

But fuck that, i live in the hood and we need y'all cats

Funny, right? ha-ha, this shit's jokes

Yall sweeter than ice cream cones

She said look ma, no hands and no darling i don't dance

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