This is a song about "Poop block gang"

We dig the plot and never bury pot

You probably got stuck in writers block

Of the rebel gang captain

I don't trust no one

I was born in a gang territory

All black, khaki jumper, actin' a donkey

You couldnt make a belemic puke on a piece of fuckin corn and peanut poop

And if it's in your possession then follow the directions my dude

When they showed up at your door at christmas

Odd future wolf gang, wolf gang pack viscous

But i didn't cross the line until the bridge hit it, troll

Was tricked to sit on poop, by some puke-able asshole

Driving around like gang bang gang gunner

The ice ain't really nothing to her