This is a song about "Drum corp international"

Cause i ain't really lift weights, i didn't need them

I do it by spitting to the beat of a drum

Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains

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

You're reaching new heights, and i ain't kiss you just a little

I guess she couldn't answer cause i can't call international

Your ex is so desprite he needs an international date line

Must be out your rabbit mind, i'm thuggin', rappin', same damn time

My drum sticks brake like i brake my shin

First off congratulations on the win

Beat of the drum soon the rhythm of the dead.

Wait, you wanna fuckin' drown? go ahead

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

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

I stay with grandma, she always bitching about her carpet