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

More clearer than the crystal sky, blue as the beast

The cold weather from my head, has cleverly leaked.

Pass it round, counter-clock, let her show her titties, stop

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

Picking words from the top of my cranium

I'm at where you can't come like no semen

Stop blowin' up my cell phone

This shit fresh off the top of my dome

The lights may flicker, your face feels red

All of the hair from out my head

The good kid from the ugly city

From the discussion of top three

Started from the bottom, too the top

I'm wale, the new nigga on the block

Kiss my body from the tip top

They burn on every block