This is a song about "Bin"

And i ain't shallow, material things suppress bad luck

My fame is bin laden, yo, we blowing the fuck up

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

It's growing thick skin, so trash talk stays in the bin, so it can't get in...

'cause my mama threw me into the loony bin.

Women'll sell they soul just to buy some attention

"put that slut back in the trash bin/

And the reason that i'm going

That's because thats these compton streets was built not to win

Only ever talk about how iv bin probation

But i don't trust anybody, yeah no one

And fuck you all, i'm rap's bin laden,