This is a song about "Break the booth"

Is it possible at the same moment in time

Now the passion from the booth comes alive in a rhyme,

And i done seen some old beefs make a bunch of news

Strange fruit, that's the truth, i spit it in the booth,

Older people looking at me how i bought all of this

And spit the truth in the booth that'll hang 'em on crucifixes,

So cool, my bitch got no shoes

Nigga, you ain't ill in the booth

I turn into a beast, i turn the booth to a shack,

Into something with swag, nigga, don't be mad

Its the truth in the booth, i spit gold

But for long time i had gone cold

Make me wanna write my own little song for you

Lets go in the booth, and see who hits who

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice

So i take it as a blessing when i gets the stepping in the booth