This is a song about "Fists of fury"

Like a crimson tide i let the fury fly

Sniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry

I wake up at the slightest peep, and my sheets are 3 feet deepi guess it's hard for you to see

Blame it on me like a bully, but i need a way maturely to say through the fury

Shit, i don't give a fuck, your family looking for you, wish them good luck

Shaking, making fists and staring at what was clearly an "a cup"

It's cold and the hole stinks

And these fake cocksuckers fists/

Fists out, swingin' 'till the 56th round

Even if i miss she gon' rebound

I just ride for my niggas and give the bitches the business

Yo i take blunts to the face, like rihanna take fists

Either hell hath no fury or an eagle takes its place/

Wale, real nigga, where the totem, blowin' bomb haze