This is a song about "Bowling alleys"

Sittin on bowling balls

Black fours red drop head doors

Faggots in the alleys getting attacked

Stuck in my high, afraid of heights, i'm trapped

Ima let her be by herself in peace

Packin powder and much more in the alleys

They're scrapping in alleys, acting real dandy as the magazines clappin'

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

And this will be the song that we sing

Got big shoes to fill like try go bowling

While in reality im in a oldsmobile killing posers in the alleys

Two middle fingers for the police if a nigga get killed no rat no cheese

I'm out bk with these fast girls and all my cash good i miss slow bucks

Who live up in dark alleys, and are taking those crazy drugs,