This is a song about "Hacking the matrix"

Sixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new shit

So i get to hacking at these rubbish mutha fuckas fuck it

Make sure your fuckin' feelings end up up in a glad bag

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

I bring the heat like the

Coroners comfort your mama

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

We the motherfucking best, word to my mama

Hell yahtry to dirty up my name

So bad they think im hacking the game

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Watch this, hey quik let me see them binoculars, nigga

I look into an alley and see the matrix machine

Stay gold, alchemy, nigga we rap's alpha team

I'm more unreal than if this was the matrix/

Y'all always on that bs and ps i'm takin all things