This is a song about "Bars in mars"

Niggas shiver and diemultiple rounds found laced

In the next few bars, i will briefly express my complaint

Bars over bars its like ima stuck in a lyrical prison,

The mirror's screaming at me saying i'm emmi lola's son

Because you outta this world, you must be from mars

I ain't fucking with kfc but i may eat up the box

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

You a supportin character im bashin ya in the head with bars

Put the beaver in the mail, we can take it slow like snail

Y'all locked inside the bars like a cell up in jail,

Slangin' rocks with your glocks put this tape in your box

Me im a vet in rap pad u a rap fad my bars

Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts

Writing bars down in these columns

My outfits come from mars

When bret hart meet brett farve