This is a song about "Brak ing up"

Hold up, hold up, hold up, popped a molly (popped a molly)

So i still be on that yard with a philly of that marley

And the discography, somethin' you got to see

Like mitt, rom-ney, with his fuck-ing dumb, mon-ey.

Before my head gets steered, not hearing shit, man im go-ing crazy

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

I want diamonds too, ronnie on player's club

Raising it up, levitating, lifting it up,

Cause imma step it up, build it up

'til a stray bullet got his lungs struck

Then we cut, look how she say my name

Play up, play up, and play the game!

Then y'all should get this too he's no please-ing it's a fact/he's a criminal of feelings

Without my crew and me, slurring words and spitting so loosely but its so fast its

When i roll another doob up

I'm stunting, got em sick to their stomach