This is a song about "12 a"

I aint a traditional individual

Fumble or you crumble, get murked on the humble

Fuck a handle, get smacked with a dictionary

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

Shit not a pedicure sit got a register

It's like we both forgot what we were fighting for

Pay a hitta to have a nigga disfigured,

And i don't care if she gone, in a long skirt

She smiles; a niggas full of passion

A new world order, with a new constitution

After 12, i'm worse that a gremlin

Girls fast how jamaicans run

Remaining anonymous, strapped atop a spring/

She was so stuck, a fool in love with the wrong thing

Niggas hate us, but we famous so i never blame them

A church hymnal planning a pandemonium