This is a song about "Base station with helper"

I can't take a big l, my city needs me, i gotta win

And i wont stop rapping til' my names on every station

Life's like a weather station,

Times in this crime land, my thug nation

They left the keys to the brand new porsche

So take my bat and these base balls

That he felt when he dealt with the physiological phase

Well there goes your angel's face, got semen like a naval base,

To put you back to reality and start from base

So, why don't you fucking wipe that stupid look on your face

Of the nearest gas station,

She all on my skin

Don't cha know we love ya? sweet lady

I'm bulletproof, fan base crazy