This is a song about "Gripping on the glock"

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

Too unorthodox for conformist flocks, 'cuz i hold the glock,

Got overun by the youngster gang, but i glock till they dead/

Not mine, i'm with wale, i'm just a tourist on the set

Roley, rolex, relaxsay she just gave me head, leaned over in the front seat

Always keepin it real showin my girls how to keep a glock on your block concealed,

The dilemma is, you think i got no conscience

I cut the finest weed down, and smoke like my glock clips,

I see ya hands gripping the mic,

Word spreads fast that your knees spread quick

Put my trust in my god

Champ with a pencil thats the glock

Guess it's something like your girl, nigga it ain't came yet

I spit up on the block like a glock and the rest are dead,

They ain't hard, swear to god, these niggas ain't real at all

Glock 9 pounds, i'll put your heart against the wall