This is a song about "Cell cycle process"

Making my thought process sporadic

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

And even if i do i know my momma gon be well

To drag his lying ass back to his padded cell

There is no where you can run your in the cell

Only getting high cuz we closer to hell

I'd rather hold two bisons while riding a uni cycle

Spit it like i get it from the bible for your survival

Trying to keep his head up while his eyes are in the bible

I would still be pessimistic, all aggressive in a brutal cycle,

Becoming a good rapper ain't that easy of a process.

And i'm a legend in the flesh that dress to impress

Young and dumb as hell, businesses i'm running well

I know i'm forcing myself to escape my cell