This is a song about "Freestylin from the top of my head"

I have the vision of her visage in my head

This that new, from the city, you ain’t heard yet

Immersed in the words that surge when i spurt from my high head.

You smell the ounce, i ain't even in ya house yet

I'm not an asshole i just don't give a fuck a lot

Going over your head, i'm climbing to the top

Then she riding on the topshe about to make it pop

The route, of where he's heading, head straight to the top

Be shy when we're all alone

This shit fresh off the top of my dome

Your heart was false just like the words you said

All of the hair from out my head