This is a song about "Pandas and ducks"

But we’ve been going through this thang since way back

Next to the skinned ducks that still quack.

We follow the prophets like imma line a couple ducks when i hit

Statistics say that niggas with no father ain't going to be shit

So if you see us in the club, go on and walk the other way

Theyre ducks, hides and theyre faces contorts and they begin to pray

Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,

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

Smoke until i ain't got no lungs

Like fudd snooping, shooting for ducks.

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

Girl your body lookin’ like a fuckin’ pot of gold

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks

Shout out my nigga miles

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts