This is a song about "Drum line"

Your trying to rhyme from line to line,

Ye' and killa cam', the world is mine

Beat of the drum soon the rhythm of the dead.

I say i put it so deep now she a cone head

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

Pocket with a cash full of bashful weapons

That mean i never trust em. and if you ever love them

I do it by spitting to the beat of a drum

Almost at the finish line

Okay i’m lying, but i’m trying

I perfect every line

Until the end of time

My hypothesis is drawn fine line

Fight for what broad, these hoes ain't mine

All the women say my name, at the same damn time

Began slow now i can write rhymes line after line