This is a song about "Al qaida"

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

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

Tell the lady in the liquorstore that she's forgiven, so come home

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

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

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

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

Stealin' phones to call home but the line is off the hook

We bundys you al but i'm teddy

Once as a slave who imagined being free

Been stunting since teen wearing something obscene joe

My path of destruction leaves disaster like al pacino,