This is a song about "Ebony"

I’m playing my hand and riding the iron horses and trains,

Okay you have em in amazement; switching four lanes

When i ask him for shit, i get no answer, so god is the cancer

Scramble if your in danger, im the iron eating beast, with held in anger

No sequel iron at ya temple

So pretentious with no potential

Malcolm x: get yo hand out my pocket

Their leather seats in the two-door mustang shit…

That'll get wiped by sg's iron curtain.

Cut beats, i'm a fucking word surgeon

Tom ford tuscan leather smelling like a brick

Push you into an old lady bagging plastic

Cause it ain't easy being who we aredriven by my ambitions, desire higher positions

Wickedly ruling the universe with an iron fist, im twisted, gifted for killin villains

Cause i walk around with pockets that are bigger than my bus

And their luxury life of crime, i'm writing rhymes on iron horses,