This is a song about "4 kids on an island"

Throw me a hurricane, let your anger rain on my island base

Every problem you ever had with another man i gotta face

This goes out to all the killers on rikers island wishing

The ones you left out, jobs were giving, better living

And put wack rappers on a island with a chain to the neck

Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead

And i don't do colorful jeans or shiny kicks

On our dgk deck cause we dirty ghetto kids

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

While i'm bangin my head on this door, i wind up with 4 more,

I'm an iphone 4 and you're a 1994 pager

Big black diamond, bigger than a black razor

Shit nigga i ain't neva been on no island

You be chickens like smokey tripping off angel dust

Shout out to joe and chris, it's a.p on my wrist

Cause this random kids an atheist