This is a song about "Forms of energy clean"

No rest for the wicked, or the clean purest of sons

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

I be deeping her up, said the d is a drug

The line of my gasoline, running clean up to the truck

I'm kobe in an orange jersey

Haven't heard me, i'm full energy

I keep it funky with my misses, fuck these other bitches

No squeaky clean scenes of ghetto violence is,

But really i'm just caught in the loop, of understanding the truth

Food gives energy, people pursue the recipes but are drained of juice

His venom he spray, reaches like beams of energy rays

My music is like confetti rain when you win a race

But she gon' throw it back like a quarterback option

Like a blizzard full of energy, no more yawning,

Deep into her soul, slow, now he's in controlpop's doing worse, a victim of his deadly curse

Big too for the tribute and homage of their energy/ freestyle the greatest/ dope haters/