This is a song about "Cargo"

Hollow tip dum-dums eat flesh like piranhas though

Then i left the hood, like fuck it don't need the cargo

You fall low on cargo until you come to a stop

Make me throw my diamonds up, bitch, my life was hard knock

The cargo youc arried at this point was going to stop your

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

My great brain, the freight train, loaded up with cargo

My dick hates sweaters so she jack it slow

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

Who holler back to days untold with cargo-holds of golden lighters.