This is a song about "Packing 9s"

I phone home to the real they wanna know just how it feel

Rappin' real, and because i got thugs, i'm packing steel,

I'm tryna find myself, i'm searchin deep for kendrick lamar

I'm an attacker packing a magnum in the back of the car

I do the right thing

Cause both ways you be packing

Hold up now don’t get it twisted, i ain't hating, do your thing

Smash mouth action, making sure yo now a fraction, send you out packing

Stop pretending that yous packing nines

And i'm on you rapper's ass like brake lights

My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks

Gat packing and fag slapping you will get slapped for once

Packing blunts, sipping lean in sty cups

We race foreign cars, custom models

Cameras and lights, fuck that, gats, i'm packing them,

Ain’t seen ya since the 12th grade, even back then