This is a song about "Crowd"

I was like a young simba couldn’t wait to be the king

His crowd ain't excited, they're not clapping.

Let me say this shit in slow-mo, homo

The crowd keeps chanting go teezy go

Freestyle to a beat if front of a crowd

Every year i get it out

Smoking loud, blowing down when the law ain't around

Concentrate hum a sound, start to overcome the crowd,

And put together a million march for some gangsta shit

Competition vanished, my name what the crowd chanted

Ride him all around, when he hits the ground

But we can seek the one in the crowd

Fuckin nazi, this crowd ain't your type

??? ??? ?? with the feeling right

He just throws it around

Me, the one kid in the crowd,