This is a song about "All or nothing"

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

Or a sociopath who gives a fuck about nothing

I would stand on my desk just to see the world in a different way

Is like nothing else i could recreate for you or ever say.

Doesnt make me sick,nothing like pac or big

Make room for the groom married to his music

And nothing else to get money for all their corporations off it,

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

You heard my hip-hop when i was 16 years old

For all that deals,but i got nothing to hold

Niggas buy ringers can't pay their bill though

Nothing is ever fast or nothing ever slow

Win or lose red or blue we must all stay true

And for this moment no i won't ditch you

Or peachy keen scenes of teens, nothing was squeaky clean,

I spitting bars the metronome the money machine