This is a song about "Composition of matter"

But the truth of the matter is,

That shoebox shit, over with

My name's kingpin slim and i'mma son of a gun

Matter of fact he don't got one and thats a scary outcome

Different positions, but she still moaning the same

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

When i ask him for shit, i get no answer, so god is the cancer

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

Caught up and slipping for fearing a mcdonald’s position

So take the time and just listen, cause this is my composition

Apprehend a couple men, triple six is fuckin' sin

It wasn't a matter of my cannabis passion!

With the content of my composition

Forever in debt to the lord for he's given

Look at the competitions composition

First off congratulations on the win