This is a song about "Loud packs"

I’m gonna turn this shit up loud, so loud, so loud

My self-respect i leave that, in the lost and found

Music is my form of expression, play it loud, play it loud, play it loud

Cause in the end girl you’re gonna want another round, another round

I’m gonna turn this shit up loud, so loud, so loud

It's rainin' now somehow the fugitive's out

My bitchez. all down to fuk.weed so loud..

I'mma catch you next time around

And if you come through with that loud,

I'll keep on moving and tryna get out

I pack more soul than chicago packs guns,

And even when you crabby, obey all seasons

Rocking black and gold stocking caps and fleur-de-lis shockey hats

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

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

When i cock the beam back, i'm aiming for supreme hats