This is a song about "Heading"

I'm still heading toward my twang theory

Busta-ass motherfuckers tried to flee

At the stars, he feels hopeless sitting here alone so he beside to start heading home,

Sang sittin there kickin it with malcolm, 'til the day camelittle latasha sho' grown

Disconnecting from ya neck i really dont wanna be heading

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

So many blessings while we stressing

But hell is surely were your heading,

Heading home later to burn a piece of paper so worthless

In the clouds looking down, i ain't even in a rush

Target spreading, aren't you heading arm and leg in

Could you tell me where to go? i need direction

That'll do anything that i please

Palms sweating and heading to crack keys

My nigga, its all love

Heading straight to your office