This is a song about "Basket"

And tired of his shit and tries to just split

I'll roundhouse you into a fucking basket

With an uppercut and hit me with a basket of laundry

Pull the pound, up and down, turn yourself around shorty

A baby basket hound gettin lashed,

I got weed, hash; when i breeze past, breathe fast

But i popped his face with the guage and now his death basket is in a closed casket!

You say the words that can get me back in focuswhen i was sick as a little kid

Because it's the third world, those dictators are basket cases,

Fuck what them niggas saying i aspire for greatness

Leave all they clothes on, baby this ain't so hard

Put lotion in the basket and then rip em apart

Leave em waitin like buffalo bill, but no basket

I call that insecure, sh-sh-shawty think she all that

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

You get balls dropped in your hole like your a fucking basket,