This is a song about "Fightin"

Fightin through with our rhymes to the finish line is just the first test

When you next to medo you wanna test me ?put your tired head on my chest

But my crib was straight ahead, shorty gave me head

Ain't no more of writer's block, fightin' hot, hip-hop is dead

I really don't know why you keep on fightin'

And if you see a whack artist do more than boo him

A soldier, and i stay under you fightin'

I guess i'm leftwich cause i still get to win

Oh yeah we're old as fuck, we didn't have our glasses

Waiting up for and fightin' for wanna be with

So forget lawrence,the guns,the fightin, and the trappin i rather move on

See i give my heart to an unforgiven genre where passion is frowned upon

Fightin for my soul, look in the mirror see my adversary

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see