This is a song about "Gather"

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

I gather fanatics and there's nothin that i would rather have/

Cause i run up in them and i make their cats meow

Gather round gather round cause i’m home now

A few niggas talk but they do without knowledge

I wipe cake from my eyes, gather up the courage

You gather your thoughts and then return here undetected,

I call that insecure, sh-sh-shawty think she all that

Rather capture the actor, oops i meant the pastor, fucking bastard n' after gather this chatter.

To many familar faces an regular occouring dangers when im filled with anger,

Putting the pieces together, from what i can gather/

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

And only cheat on my broad if i run out of answers

My life is a gather of strives of knifes and daggers

And i ain't really give a fuck, it was like a nigga rushed

Trophy's that stack up by my window pane, they're stained. gather dust,