This is a song about "Drift away"

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

I'm in some high definition, and my drift is catching

Bury my foes, up in drift but

In that pretty red dress, let's fuck

The street light was lit on the wrong pole;i drift in the depths of dark

She bend it over, make that thing look like a work of art

He needs help if you catch my drift

Now i’m armed and i’m fayetnam’s finest

I can't even run away.

Few chips, i get out n' spray

Round my motherfuckin way

‘cause it’s not going away

Put a eighth on lay away

She do everything i say

I just wanna take a puff, then i start to drift

Haters just hate but yet they don't know squat like a leg lift