This is a song about "Contact centre"

Rout the centre forced surrender

Just to let you know, you are

No magic out the hattell baby bye bye, i'm never coming back

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

Giving you up to seven minutes to contact your peers,

I'm on the verge of excellence kill em off with no evidence

They would get the cold shoulder and know it was an act

Prepare for contact, i bomb tracks, sign off like a contract,

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

And a nigga so fly i should be droved in jets

Eye contact with saladin as we share this spot yo,

Poppa took the television, but left the radio

Somebody tell satan that i want my fuckin' swag back

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

My pocket's fat, somebody check my blood pressure

With lyrics flowing through my head, left, right and centre