This is a song about "Dust mites"

Man im so high if i land ill make the pavement dust,

Homie popped up with about twenty bags and

A straight thug motherfucker who ain't scared to bust

Crushin up your mind into tiny pieces of brain dust

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

Smokin' dust but thinkin' you're like loaded lux,

Make martin luther tell god i'm the future for heaven's talent

Some people take the pain away with liquor or smoking dust,

All the time with this glock of mines

I salute as if i don't see these mites

I race to the line, blow past the dust

Since napster the sales been crashin' and

The king of comedy heard everythin' that you said

You brushed the dust off the rhyming dictionary under your bed

Faded. but u started from the dust and your still in the dust

But since whitley gilbert and jada pinkett my world been different