This is a song about "An"

I call her, no answer

Just an alert of an amber

What up girl, tell me how you been

Its an imagination

It's been a hell of a journey for me man

Anti-violent i chant my rhymes an

I think one is an orphan. and one had an abortion

Swift-made switch blades made a big incision in him

I'm tryin to keep income comin' in and collect on my ass cap

And for miami i get an applause and an extra clap

But still disastrous like an antagonist swinging an axe and shit

Homie will never love her, although he'll probably have a fit

An immortal technique

From the back seat, back seat