This is a song about "Al ibn haytham"

But oh i can’t stay away, not never, your my home, home, home

Been up and down like a criminal record, guess that's why there's al capone,

These are al the symptoms of growing up in tha hood.

Yeah, inglewoodinglewood always up to no good

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

Mixed with diluted cider brewed with, tools from al-qaeda units

I'm al capone in a fedora, execution on the church altar

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

Focus let me show you the light

Al-right, continue to impose my might.

Could he be weird al, could he be jimmy fallon?

But if she ain't gonna smoke it ain't gon' happen

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

So kids say fuck school don't follow the rules they'll al be asking for your money