This is a song about "Heavy load"

Lambo, roscoe, no street code

After i load the boat,

Now don’t it sound legendary

Under my skin scratchin bugs, pride heavy

And i know u cant handle this heavy lyrical load

Behind the velvet rope, pop bottles, hella smoke

You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three

Leaving him eight hundred and forty pounds heavy,

Or closed casket for our troubles

Load pen of syllables

I put it down your throat

Of support i can load,

Play me for a stepping stone then, i land mine, huh

To shoot a load on your blinded retina.

Load up the rifle, so damn predictable

No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble