This is a song about "Post apocalypse"

Tell her drink, come get drunk, it's nut cracker

Apocalypse now cue the final chapter

But all she ever want me to do is unhook her bra

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

Tell bush to push tha button cause i'm fed

So before you post better think ahead,

I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold

Watch each others backs and guard your command post

Hi my name is bob and i work at my job

Post it to they head, leave em a mental note

Charcoal seats gray, drop tops like release dates

Speak too late be taken post to sleep on stakes

So dope i've got the apocalypse on my laptop

But now i got a problem with that little white rock