This is a song about "Burning memory"

When i get to warwick avenue

I'm torching and burning you,

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

The sound of the fire burning represents the screams of my soul burning!

Mind and memory are getting polluted

A good head on her shoulders, i need to feel that

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

I'm low-key but my skill is still seen like a memory

Burning hot shots rippin through blocks

Fuckin' up my gold pots

When company turns to memory due to jealousy

Driver drop me off at dulles im headed to some money

Blunts still burning, money earning

I got my wife, so fuck the ring

So if it comes down, may the best man win

These easy rhymes i still am burning