This is a song about "Blast rhymes all day"

You wasn't fin' to dress all crazy no more and

All these backstabbing fags i blast em back to the past

But its hard to remember since i loose all my rhymes

Niggas in jerusalem, waitin for signs

Young peyton don't huddle, still run my play

I'll murder all you mothafuckas any day!

Cause youse a down ass bitch, and i ain't mad at cha

And all you kids know it, i'll blast on ya

Writing rhymes all day is my form of expression

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

Why not me the same thing

My rhymes for all this dueling