This is a song about "Flying down a 2 track"

Come back around and track 'em down like bassett hounds,

We in the field building muscle while you watch the house

Now that she's gone i'm flying right off track

In the back of a chevy that’s all black

I'm about to track you down like a bloodhound, cunt

These hoes say i'm a poet i try to make em different

Banging out niggas with attitude

Track 2.) golden child (forbidden fruit)

Nothing to do so ya just release a track,

Greed written on her face when i bought her first bag

Get drag'd 2 a early grave

Just know that i'm always

Smile on my face, tears of a sad clown

Fuck the lame paper, same haters chase me, track us down,

Cause i’m a profit; i can see bodies flying every where

If you was, i would climb every other stair, i gotta stare