This is a song about "Got all my ammuntion"

Yo you guys have got my ass hyper with all these cyphers

Know it hurts that she flirts with a nigga this is worse

And thats why i got all this food on my tray, nigga

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla

I ain't superstitious i make all these broads split my pole

All my west indian niggas got me speaking creole

Flaunting all my diamond rings, but i ain't got a thing,

Think we can fit ten in, bowls packed with everything

I got a choice to speak my voice but its all confusion

Get your revenue popping before you ever do talk on them

All i know is i got warts on my below

Even when the skies is grey, and my money was low

I've got all the plastic ready with my favourite knife

Nobody gives a fuck about usbut when i start to rise