This is a song about "Holes in your head"

And those that oppose go out with holes in the head

Guess it's something like your girl, nigga it ain't came yet

Probably because you got that autistic junk in your head

Hungry like the nigga who ain't got the taste of fame yet

You gotta change the voices in your head

The shit was so ahead, thought we was all dead

I don't want you to have my permit yet

Party in your head there a club in your dread

And we better than all these mutha fuckas up in this era

Holes in they sweater, from my lyrical beretta

Ox up in my pocket, i'll lock shit, from the peep holes,

At the same damn time, gettin' hit on by a couple hoes

I'm in your head like mnemonic device

Never really been into the ice

The web you created in your head

Kinda pop tart, when i bite into them red