This is a song about "Doing lines of drugs"

My ghetto’s full of tough brainless thugs who taking drugs,

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

And what remains from a twelve gauge to the brainarguements with my boo is true

Make a record about doing drugs and name it after her (oh thank you!)

My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks

Thinks he's a mad thug stacking a stash of crack drugs

Of having so much drugs, so much drugs

But most times darling the sequel sucks

Man these songs that i made in my bedroom and shit

Doing all these drugs, pour it up, smoke that chronic

You redundant, you never ever change

Try doing what you doing but it’s out of range