This is a song about "Stackin bands with the squad"

But i let off everything i have

Packin' a mac, crackin' a track, stackin' the cash,

But money never lasts, in fact it's only last

Stackin' plaques, platinum tracks with crack and gats in hand,

And lastly for everybody who doubted i can't live without you, please

Bubbling bass and bullfrog brooks beside bushes that buzz with bands of bumble bees.

In the t.dot i'm a soldier with ranks

On the corner, a old bitch dropped fifty bands

Into something with swag, nigga, don't be mad

Just like the terror squad when you hear my songs you lean back/

We the squad, freshgang , out that c-town mob

Just searching for the perfect shot

The squad on lock no key

Please boo what's your size crazy