This is a song about "Composition of matter"

Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for

Doesn't matter the time of day, not even the weather.

So for this time being, i hope this open scribe might support her

I keep on going till i matter, won't just be a piece of matter

No benefits still a nigga never hissy fit

...mist of rap...whatever, it don't matter, shit

Only a matter of time before this shit erupt,

Are they gon' pay us and will they make it rain? yup

Sick of these "rappers" that don't matter, just bastards with no game

Enough to drive a man insane, a woman insane

They don't see my vision, grown man mission

With the content of my composition

A perfect angel-a, matter of fact that's what her name is.

This my zombie circus, i hope the majors heard this

Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her

They're busted rhymes on the wall of shame, cause they don't matter.