This is a song about "City limits"

Streched, skin pulled out, it's limits being met, but don't fret

They two now, and haven’t seen their godfather yet

Yeah, we get this cabbage

Rack, rack, city bitch, city bitch

I would say fuck my city

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

And they say i'm over heads cuz they don't understand... that

I'm ripping the limits of quickness when i'm spitting this slick shit

I do dis for my niggas and city

You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three

A shooting range with bullet limits

So here i am at the store for some chips

Rack city bitch, rack, rack, city bitch [x3]

And everybody's having sex

Smokin' weed like it ain't no thing, so even kids

I'm more than raw with it, i morph and ignore limits..