This is a song about "Contact"

You see the furs and pendants, austin sigoto, drop though

Eye contact with saladin as we share this spot yo,

And a nigga so fly i should be droved in jets

Chills go down my spine when we make eye contact [x3]

But i'd just rather 2-step, like my first steps

Chills go down my spine when we make eye contact [x3]

My pride is gone, i'm that guy like aaron hall

No phone calls no visits no contact at all

I'm a psychopath with a viscous path to make fatal contact

If that, the rest of you niggas get lapped, i sit back

Smiling in my face as you said that, making contract with ya contact

Somebody tell satan that i want my fuckin' swag back

My bitches bad, these niggas mad, i guess it's just what the fame brings

Giving you up to seven minutes to contact your peers,

Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense

Chills go down my spine when we make eye contact [x3]