This is a song about "Ball pits"

High: that's why they call us planes

And burst in a ball of flames

From the bench to the ball

Didn't do a thing at all

Come close, catch a contact, i got a loud pack in my cargo pocket

Slit arms from the pits, leave a bit attached so i can tear to hear it rip

Only real niggas stay on top

Imma ball till i drop

Levitate a ball like a magic trick,

Over 20 homes, but i need a chick

Ma nigga be wise, open your eyes, see the unexpected be disguised from the pits of the sky

Two kids shot while the whole block staringi will never understand this society, first they try

Staring at the crystal ball

These joints here not found at the mall

Just me and my boss no worries at all

Then i'm off to play a game of ball/