This is a song about "End carrer in one verse"

Hold my tears i tried my best

They robbed us in the end

With foreign names, valet the range

One that doesn't end in psychotic rage,

From verse one you can tell that i won/

Dub a.l.e., still a son of a gun

I'm in a ferrari, racin', chasin' the end of the line, placin' number one

Holla; cheech chong & folarin, only get high when my lows come often

The winner in the end is the one you feed.

Umm, this lane is open if, if you need

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

And i got a girlfriend so i'm a keep lying until the verse end, fin

You cant deliver one verse,

We should fuck each others mothers

My densest frees are condensed in this verse

This is only for the hip-hop lovers