This is a song about "Dying on the battlefield"

Hit the club and i let it fly, claim you balling nigga telling lies

People dying all day homicide suicide its just the role of life,

With the blaze a your bluntsand you can picture thoughts slowly

Your fucking skinnier than the bare branches on a dying tree,

Inside it feels like im dying

But he don't rule a thing

And plus hip-hop is dying, so my raps are like the laser rays,

That he felt when he dealt with the physiological phase

Call levi's we can see about the home cook

People always dying in the hood, stood

For all the pedicures i've given to their camel toes they bring

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

You say the art's dying, nah brother buy an album, the plan

Pass me that bong, inhale, astronaut flow, space jam