This is a song about "Carry"

All he wanted was the fame and good life to carry on

I mean wow and i’m wowed, no one compares, you must have won

It's trife, the strife inside this life, a knife and gun we carry,

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

T.i. literally wanted to shoot up the charts

I'll carry him and throw him into some wired barbs

I also carry traits from my mother,

I never use a fork i always spoon her

Agree, only want to thieve and carry pieces,

Tell me who's as rad as us and the answer was

Rap and do the impossible like i can carry air.

Meet me in the tele where the lobby at, i'm probably there