This is a song about "Bombing houses"

I'm killin it! my hand's the detonator to rhyme bombing.

I was like a young simba couldn’t wait to be the king

Notice everything it wasn't. realizing why it shouldn't ever be again

Spotting the brain performing lyrical dive-bombing raids, raining heavy reign

Lit your houses on fire and deployed my parachute

That's all a nigga needs, i get through without food

Don't know why you even ask, ain't nobody hot as this

Hostile when bombing posses like kamikazes, he's positive,

Spotting the brain performing lyrical dive-bombing raids, raining heavy reign/

My pistols represent mebust until my rounds emptyback for the street fame

Left hand got ten bands; back pocket, four stacks

Honor that i'm guilty of bombing tracks

I ride with them boys in the middle of the map

I'm bombing rap, 'bout as sick as a hypochondriac