This is a song about "Guards"

The guards keep me calm to stop the alarm and firearms

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms

I got these tats all on my arms

// [you can call out your guards]

// [you can call out your guards]

Please correct me, stretch marks

Your bars hard as guards knee cartilage

When my competition ain't much

Janitors and cooks and guards and tellers, that's bad news,

All them bitches converse with me off that react juice

Highest form of affection, physical connection

Now i'm rising up and fighting, ain't no guards, fuck protection,

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

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

But got comma’s in my statement

With gas chambers, guards with cannons and