This is a song about "My dead pet rabbit"

Them pussy niggas from uptown been my pet peeve

But now i'm pointin the finger at police

And sell out 'till we dig holes for homes like peter rabbit,

And put together a million march for some gangsta shit

My real estate sweet, yea ginger bread

Even when my dreams are dead

Swung left, no breath, chef ahead, must be fed, kept pet.

For that living large, but mama i ain't done yet

Still got my future ahead, should be happy i'm not dead

Sad but its true, but i ain't on ya level yet

Or as your loyal and loving pet

That i just haven't came up with a name yet

Your pep is dead my bomb spread so step to this

I'mma stay a whilehold ya head chris

Y’all millhouse, blew y’all head

Fed to his pet zombie, ted!