This is a song about "Batches and cookies"

And inhospitable,

As i light one for ill will

And nasty remains and bones

And i don't think homes

Thunder and clouds amaze and peer

Close your eyes bitch, i'm all in your ear

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed

I was sitting here, braid dead, hooked up on cookies and juice,

That man there throw wale on the shelf and i lose

And stop playing hide and seek,

More money that mean less sleep

It was all bad

And like to boast and brag

Sanyo, and handheld and handgun

Girls fast how jamaicans run