This is a song about "A homie who was killed"

Being used to me was like a fashion trait or being killed inside like the assassin snake

Its important we communicate, intentions to be forever but never cannot wait

Or was it a snow cone? who knows...

This is love, nothing else close

Angle these beats like a pentagon

Since i was killed by the don,

I was thirsty for that alcohol, what really killed me was temptation.

Mr. i-don't-give-a-fuck-about-you what they callin' him

My spirits dead, like who killed all of the bishops?

That's food for thought you muthafuckas can do the dishes