This is a song about "Factory workers spit"

Raps straight out the back of the crack factory

I'm a g, and this is something you can't see

Evidently, im a killing accessory, thats why im hiding in a supplementary factory,

You know, it's like i'm livin just to diei fall on my knees and beg for mercy, not knowin if i'm worthy

Oh wait it is, i'm past all the last factory packagers packaging,

Listen, uno papi chulo bout to show you what you been missing

Wit my kin that i came in wit

Every rhyme you ever spit

I take home billions and pay my workers eight bucks an hour,

The nerve of this prick, he said fuck it you can have her

Its sad when the hard workers get unappreciated

I don't care about your drive unless you talkin' ridin' dick

Thousands of people gazing over what i spit

When i'm fuckin' and we on cloud nine for that minute

Don’t gotta shop, i ain't paying for shit

You talkin nonsense we let that baretta spit