This is a song about "Ad weinman"

And the life i live is hell see, i never thought i'd see

Bouncin around so much shit look like i got ad-hd,

And leave an ad on that shit

It's all good, finna dog that

Platinum and gold, you gots to love that

Two hundred and score years and a year a.d

I'm at morgan, howard, coppen, trying to find that higher knowledge

Cause if your threats are anything to go by ad say you were a bitch

Ad-rock said the beat bout to drop/

I'm wale, the new nigga on the block

You gotta adapt though i'm never going back

Badly company wants her for ad she's too fat

Guess i'll just write about it, ad lib

She want her baby back, like a cooked rib

Or the crack that they sell to put food in their kids

Im ad lib bin while the sticking to script like magnets