This is a song about "Drum"

I play the drum but i'm not dumb enough to set countries on fire while higher call me a liar

And certain death for us ghetto bastardswhat can we do when we're arrested, but open fire

I do it by spitting to the beat of a drum

But everybody is a g with the weed in them

I'm the chosen one: sound the drum, own guns

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

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

You're forced to rewrite every line hit, pause, drum snare or rhymes spit

And ones desiresbe pulling all my cabbage like priorsstuck in the trance searching for something higher

I play the drum but i'm not dumb enough to set countries on fire while higher call me a liar

Blood pumps thru my veins like its a damn drum

Niggas start listenin', and what i'm givin' them

Get your revenue popping before you ever do talk on them

The songs were so dumb, hearin' them almost blew off my ear drum.