This is a song about "Macs and pcs"

I'll slap the yapping crap out of you, packing macs, crack a gin,

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

And kill yourself and your clique

Redan road, that’s my street

They would act like they packed macs and smoked hash when,

When it come to pistols, these niggas don't john lynch them

Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,

But of course, i'm the white boy that shows no remorse

These are real facts, now i don't deal crack, i'm packing macs,

They got me goin mad, i'm knockin busters on they backs

And for the time being lets me in love with the moment

And my tongue stay flicking, over clits and fucking lips and

I'll hit you hooky like you skipping class

Slice and slash, bite and gnash, bite and mash, fight and smash,

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

Then they'll play with mario brothers when it was duck hunt