This is a song about "Carl s store"

Like checkin' inventory you dont know what's in store

Billy-club chainsaw, i’m coming through their front door

Bonded with the children of zion, my mind is s-s-s-so divine.

Remember when i used to call you on your phone line

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

Like how the fuck did we miss this kid's shit

If yall aint get it, the store is a front, front is a store

Yea this is like a penthouse, served at the top floor

These rhymes are telegraphing what i got in store

But i got skeptics and some fans that just be needing more

Through all that rain, i kept my flame

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