This is a song about "Finding someone"

Snapping necks and records in matter of seconds check 'em son

If finding somebody real is your fucking problem

Someone blow the whistle,

The world is so typical

It's no wonder that you have trouble finding rhymes,

Do you think you'll ever get to the point where you can live

Weak asses, need glasses cause they're finding their feet!

Your bitch fuck us up: every nigga that she meet

Yeah ballgame, i swear the hoes wasn’t in my plans

I'm finding ways, to get them fucking brats,

Almost like finding all marshmallows in a box of lucky charms cereal.

To my young nationparticipation, more hesitation could turn lethal

But put it in slow-mo, i don't want to bust the tape yet, press play

I seen them grinding 'n' finding a way, to take time at the night or day