This is a song about "Fire wimp"

I’m the king of rock, there is none higher

Your on fire.. your on fire

To the flame then shortly after write fire

You wear a shirt, my records sell yes sir

I spit with this lyrical fire,

There she go, just what the doc's been lookin for

I rush to tend her, talked as i touch her

Im liable to spit cold fire

Left with nothing but eternal fire

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

Niggas who be rapping how real they are

Yes you have a gun but wont fire,

And the bitches you fight em, heres some liquor or lighter

Farenheit four fifty one i'm on fire

Cause i'm laying a rap from fire

The ice ain't really nothing to her