This is a song about "Brody tate"

Eatin niggas, killin niggas, makin dope music.

Straight conch got a nigga feeling seasick, oh shit

Hard to make it in music/

Back up on my fly shit

I was at the xxl just trying to excel

//getting a good mic soon hopefully as well,

Blue ball, who fault? mine, only cause i stick around

I wish we could meet in the ring, go round to round

To be rich like a king, and live my life, trouble free

Bring in the artillery life is nothin but a memory

If you can make it through the night there's a brighter day

That's everything i came to say, i feel like just a caged display/