This is a song about "Whipped cream"

Ice cream or vanilla,

Yeah, one time for the

Yall sweeter than ice cream cones

Brighter than yellow bones

Dicks whipped out of our kecs, watch the crowd retreat and freeze,

Pushing keys like them niggas that were banging on the keys

Come see real niggas on my team

With a nice vanilla cream

We're freaky leeches, no sweet peaches or cream,

As the chain swinglettin' shine, no sheenjust my dream

They said seven tracks, i said fifteen

Whatever ya'll mean i ain't got cream

Can barely walk the city streets

You dream of cream and obscene fuck scenes

Unify them, mob through, take over and

Pistol whipped to brain bits running around pavement