This is a song about "A well"

I gotta make it even if heaven or hell

My uncle was a crip he taught me real well

Well i dont give a fuck which bitch you flick bics with

For him to be true is all you ask but i'm foolish

People speak as if they need me, they deceitful inside

Got these niggas in a sandwich, might as well take a bite

Never gon' see the day that i ain't got the upper hand

But i guess it's the skill of a well made up tramp.

Well surprise it's a real rap genocide

When it came to grams it was 90 i fried

//getting a good mic soon hopefully as well,

No need to trip, you can tell em that i’m cool as hell

Well quit calling me a white rapper then.

Aye rich, another 5 on the g men

Imitated out-of-toners wasn't going well

Wrote well, spoke well, no murder in a motel,