This is a song about "Post apocalypse"

And post the shit on instagram

Both: this the perfect plan

See, baby, i'm a leader day away from a libra

I'll give ya post traumatic stress disorder as my rhymes kill ya

Just seen another brother buried plus i knew him for years

An art to perfect before we all perish in the apocalypse

And anybody who plays sports, you know you got politics

Big red creature with a six pack of the apocalypse

Golf wang kill them all nigga, triple six

They said to prepare for zombie apocalypse,

I post up bumping threads tucked woven i sweats

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Take cee around town as if everything cheap

Wake up in a zombie apocalypse, aw, how sweet/