This is a song about "Fire in the booth"

Ain't none of my niggas crip, and we giving niggas the blues

I'm up in the booth, pack a shrooms mackin' who back an nothing to lose

At the same damn time, gettin' hit on by a couple hoes

Getting rough in the booth like the tissue of armadillos

Strange fruit, that's the truth, i spit it in the booth,

Always keep it up to date, that's why the hoes choose

I'ma try to rhyme and get through, i'm documenting the truth

So i take it as a blessing when i gets the stepping in the booth

And pray for better days

In the booth back to back wednesdays

Go stupid in the booth and go so rude when i'm writing rhymes,

I'm not saying to go out and do some stupid shit, commit crimes

These are lessons in the booth//

Niggas couldn't fill my shoes

Permanent brain damage similar to tattoos

Somebody call the butcher, i'm going ham in the booth/