This is a song about "Being with her"

It's odd being in the same room, with the man i killed,

Tell the fucking teacher that this burlap sack is filled

I come back with none to show her

Look, another day another dollar

Instead of her dreams being buried and no one there helping,

Hold up now don’t get it twisted, i ain't hating, do your thing

You’ll never be me partner so it don’t fucking matter

Remember hugging her with her coat soft with fur

Slap her with a newspaper

A pac style taker

Of being pour with no ambitions, house the size of a kitchen.

If i ever hand you some weed, it's free, you don't owe me none

He's being cornered, with little ammo in store

Fuck it! i go until my 40 millionth encore