This is a song about "Zombie slaya"

I'm trying to make a way, she never call back

"god, he's whack," they stare at me like a zombie pack,

Fed to his pet zombie, ted!

My real estate sweet, yea ginger bread

Fuck it, odd future some nazis, black nazis don't copy

Now im in the zone like i bitten by a zombie

The form of a zombie 'n' but with too much coffee, folly hobby, too floppy.

Came from italybellisimo, was tha callyeah nigga i got versace

It's that crack, give you something to sell

Come back as a zombie don't mind the smell

A brown zombie appeared in front of me hoping it could have a feast

Those streets are like frontline warzones like the middle east,

Over the edge, yeah i hide in a potato sack

"god, he's whack," they stare at me like a zombie pack,