This is a song about "Fuck the cell phone"

You gon' miss a good thing, end up bitter alone

Ya like that let me know on my the phone

Don’t let it drift away like a feather and i’m home, home, home

All the shit that his dealing on his own, if only he had a friend to phone

All the women of color i'm in love with your skin

Snipping the wires, no phone call for protection

Sitting in the room, on the phone, cooking up orders

When my critics break down and make amends with my supporters

I ain't trying to conflict: nickels to dimes and shit

Or in the cell in your jail, say your hello, from it

To be the man in this wicked land underhanded hits are plannedscams are plotted over grams and rocks

Hes got the prison guards recording him as he grinds his dirty ass on the cell bars,

I'm like the man on mars; i'm high as hell

And the only block he's reppin' is a h-block cell

Zoned out face in a cell phone - imprisoned

About disaster in the world and