This is a song about "Ad"

I put some cash in ya pocket

And leave an ad on that shit

No more fucking cigarettes lit, no more stupid ass presentations and useless magazine ad bits

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

Badly company wants her for ad she's too fat

I was born back, wolf pack, nigga fuck that

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

Free throws of money, bet you can’t block

Ad-rock said the beat bout to drop/

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

Baby when i like that, i know it's crazy

Two hundred and a year a.d

I just wanna be higher than that