This is a song about "Conuincing argument"

Gotta have more time, no rhyme or reason

This meeting just begun, nigga i'm satan's son

I'm reckoning, leave him pleading for some heavy medicine/

If you ain't talkin' dollars then i don't see where you comin' from

Got me thinking you 2 chains

It’s something that’s in your veins

That involve ballpark franks and silver duct tape

White streaks on ya face evidence of heart break

Unless your 'skin's winning, then i do it just to fucking boast

Bottom row of the bronze and gold social ladder, bother? don't

I gotta go, death row awaits me now,

Cause i run up in them and i make their cats meow

Making g's was my missionmoving enough of this shit to get my mama out the kitchen and

We become so dependent on believing the government when they say we independent

Focused on your ass, so i guess i got tunnel view.

The 40 if i cop bottles, we can't believe you