This is a song about "Dying love"

Now you're lying, slowly dying, with no hope,

A nigga just got paid and we still was broke

Abroad flying and bar buying from broad writing

After all the times i preferred dying.

8 in the morning when that street clock bust

Your kind is dying, it's time to adjust

Slip capsules in a glass, she dizzy rascal

Well i'm telling you now her dying i cannot handle.

I runaway with lights flying, waiting till day the nights dying

Actually that's kinda frightening, but you'll cum quick like lighting

If everybody play their position, we can win this thing

Obama trying, i'm not lyin', too many people dying

I want to feel her in every way

Gangstas dying from day to day