This is a song about "Hit the weight room"

Covered the room in splattered red,

You already know you're dead

Across the crowded room,

7 to 8, zoom zoom, boom boom tune

I can't correlate the weight of being served on a cold plate,

It's way too lateand if i got to die young then it's just my fate

Haha niggas murdered this shit, know what i'm saying

Incapable of the weight i was taking,

You assume the role and carry your weight

Most niggas love nothin' so i made this tape

Step back to the dressing room

Won't run out anytime soon

And take him to a place that i'm sure we all can blow up, boom

Soothing jazz juxtaposing the pizzazz of this room/