This is a song about "Gunnar optics"

That's flyer than a wrestler, you don't want to mess with

So prepare your optics, here comes the synopsis

Until then, my feet planted on the ground, shadowboxing my conscience

With the finest logic set in motion a plot with televised optics

Because when i ignite i'm damaging your nerve endings and optics

And if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks

I'm a king.you should kiss my pinky ring

Conclusion as my optics opt to start perusing

I was fiending for the meals; i ain't talking burger king

Focus your optics it's obvious they're sneaking

Cause you know, aside from me strugglin' or coming up in one of the most

Givin' the topics, spit 'em through optics, from the ghetto that malcolm roamed,