This is a song about "Carl s store"

I store archives, bigger then landslides.

Just to make it in this broadway lights

Then the world ain't no trick no more

Bleeding out, with no oxygen in store!

Might as well, mix it up. im a fashion whore

Of my ideas, you not gonna know whats in store

Niggas taking shots, don’t know how to aim

No bitch ( carl c ) don't rap a dame

These rhymes are telegraphing what i got in store

Right now at 23 i ain't mad at them reds no more

You question wasting money on those papers at the store

Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for

(blind..shit) and ''carl-c'' when they won they deserved it

Cause i ain't know for who or what the fuck to get