This is a song about "Falling leaves"

But he was to busy falling

Nah, niggas they dont wanna let me win

I can see the sun falling

In my drawsring, ring, ring

That grow those damned trees, blood on the leaves

Get grand slam fans out of they seats

And murder leaves no retribution

What up girl, tell me how you been

Falling into te see

C’mon and let’s chill baby

Haters eyes gettin' wide like bench seats

Cystals dripping off a purple leaves

Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves

Yeah you laughing my nigga but everything ain't what it seems

Pendants involved sorrow falling to menace

And when we on the road, bitches follow the tour bus