This is a song about "Cards"

While little kids hide this tape from their parents like bad report cards

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms

Stuntin' for the fuck of it, i ain't with the sucka' shit

I just want my cards dealt right, cuts proportionate, fortunate,

But i keep pushing, 'cuz my cards were dealt wrong in my hand,

But the plan is to show you that i understand

Shards, everything is just a house of manic cards.

Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards

// [you can hold all the cards]

Please correct me, stretch marks

Ads played through him like cards in a deck

So im like fuck it, im out get on your head

But there's a devil in the ghetto tryin to tear it apart

There are dead sheep in the yards, playing these cards is getting hard