This is a song about "Dad on drug ice"

Crackhead on drug supplies

Take her back to where i live

I hear them talk, and run back to my room, my dad checks up on my bed//

Bet you thirty dollars you find her like cartman found kenny, dead

Your mom and dad on the list,so i make the tryst,

Every day's harder, ain't nothin here promised

It's like you grew up on drug street, from jump street

And we stumpinbut can't catch the beat

I was like six without a clue or a doubt, come on now tell me (what up dad?)

You been aching for that cuz what they playing on the station is wack

There's a million names for your kind of chronic

And i be on point like a mutha fucking ice pick

Its like ice, i c e every thing that you see on this ride

This my little brother on my mother's side, our father died

Or whatever religion you believe in, bitch you walking on thin ice and i'ma leave

May we all rolland if you don't knowwe got the rap game petroscared cause we bout to release