This is a song about "Cloud nine"

In my hand theres a nine

Private plane, my seat recline

I'm back chillin with a friend of mine

My heat concealed and its that black nine

And i can't even trip, cause i'm just laughin at cha

When ever we talk, i feel like i am on cloud nine wit ya

It takes away my storm cloud.

I might even stick my tongue out

Detonating when i rhyme a rhyme

I ain't got time for no cloud nine

I gots cravin for a number nine

I spit murder, every bar is a crime

Oh, i was raised by the stop sign

Rob you on the street with the nine

Nate and cloud the 2 new elites

Cause after all the lights and screams