This is a song about "Drum corps"

Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains

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

I do it by spitting to the beat of a drum

And you down, hold it down for my nigga them

That sick set, tryna get my kickflips wet

Beat of the drum soon the rhythm of the dead.

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

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

Odd future wolf gang, wu-tang banging in your system

Straight up fuck all y’all nigga's talking about that nigga changed shit

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

Ten more depending on where wale going

My drum sticks brake like i brake my shin