This is a song about "Al qaeada"

Yeah live from the soho, and hov told me i'd blow joe

My path of destruction leaves disaster like al pacino,

Al give ye a tip seen as ye you canny see me visually

That flies me to places, with spaceships, that don't need money

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

And that’s a scary thing, i try to duck em good

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,

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

Out-of-place and tore-up like al-qaeda with a jewish bible,

If your head right, i’ll be there every night

Al-right, continue to impose my might.

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks

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