This is a song about "Declaration of independace"

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

Now this is what i call an evening

You little young-ass motherfuckers

Shaved of the face of the earth

Reaping the humans of leaps of good will

Loud pack, i propel. burgandy, out to kill

Of the book of your life

Then put it into sex drive

Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit

A little more of me through generation of a debate of hatred

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

Of being of always getting wired

Uhh, i woke up and screamed, fuck the world

Aw man, it's been a ride

Out of mind out of sight