This is a song about "Al qaeda"

My nephew looking at me cause his daddy is his idol

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

Call levi's we can see about the home cook

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

Lyrically or physically, step to me, you rest in peace

So, don't fuck with i'm like al pacino in his early twenties,

Don’t let it drift away like a feather and i’m home, home, home

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

Most determined, but with the smallest of funds to show

My path of destruction leaves disaster like al pacino,

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

New love is so beautiful. time just makes it ugly

It's no drought were i be, bitch no police, here's fire wings

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