This is a song about "Carry"

When life is too good to carry on

Full of shit, like i ate that john

You assume the role and carry your weight

I swear these off rhyme bums are full of hate

Me, for all the baggage that you carry still

You fumbled in a drill, young man get on the hill

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

As: i’m layin’ in the cut waitin’ for your mom

But really i'm just caught in the loop, of understanding the truth

I can tell you carry purses and you’re always jacking tissues,

I also carry traits from my mother,

If its not couture, i will not go to her

Workin' like a robot, and carry the heavy cannon,

Fucking chin-checkin' punks 'til he's outta breath and done

And i snap like bob backlund in the booth

My raps gone on forever, they carry loose