This is a song about "Dead nigger storage"

Nigger this, whitey that man i don't understand it,

Yea i’m on that ball shit, boy you with that soft shit

Wale, more times than not, am not for whom the air waves

I'm a battenberg nigger that plays for high stakes./

Thug for life nigga

Dead , shot etc

You all should be fukn dead

Kick back and know yo son set

Your corpses in a crematorium storage, no worries

Like the nigga on the block waving his glock but won't squeeze

I'm hopin' to go and bust some rhymes i have locked in storage,

Odd future wolf gang like they're filmin' twilight in this bitch

That rap is mostly dead/

Code red, which means you go red

Pull up on a stark with enough white to kill a horse

So stop braggin about cheap whores, you faker than storage wars