This is a song about "He is lit"

Yeah, um, as you can probably tell from listening to this record

My candle is always lit you can't be the one to have it conquered

Can't be positive, when the ghetto's where you live

Frown and a gun lit is all she could amount to confront with

So what i keep the blunt lit?

Me, wale, so hard - as shit

Popping champagne bottles, lord he is

The look of no hope on my niggas' faces

It's roc nation, this my team

Is he sick or just obscene?

Sweet, okay makes sense

All he gets is moral debts,

Is he illiterate, literal syndicate

Niggas dumb to be braggin bout that stupid shit

Fuck sara lee, mrs. smith; you the pie lady

And what the fuck's he doing, is he crazy