This is a song about "Dry"

Dry land , but its my fucking

If they could cut out all the busting

Just think of all the people that you knew in the past

You're sipping on dry air, man that's so bland,

I write rhymes, dry and wise

We hustle to survive

I swear the pen right across from hell, i can't cry

Face still dry, wasnt born wit shit fuk ya slice of pie

Anyway pay me now it's time for dry art

See, the love is gone with one another, it's hard

Ima dry em out then i'mma make it rain.

Just plain pat visions with some sick aim

All my friends, weed & cigarettes so i take a hit

But please don't cry, dry your eyes, that's misdirected,