This is a song about "Angle of death"

The river of death has brimmed his banks

In the t.dot i'm a soldier with ranks

And i'm a just take another guess

I'll hang you on a hook near the brink of death

Mini fourteen stuffed in my denim jeans

This rap shit til the death of libertines

And i'm a legend in the flesh that dress to impress

I'm sick of seeing ghetto-grown kids who nearly fight to death,

I stare in your eyes in your final moments of death

Becoming a good rapper ain't that easy of a process

It lets u think and rest, never at the brink of death

At the tender age of 12, and you feel that no one cares

I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs

I'm sick of seeing ghetto-grown kids who nearly fight to death,

Suspending your body from an angle, of which you dangle,

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