This is a song about "Home"

Scanner on my dresser, i work at home

I'm definitely in a class of my own

I'll whip a 750 if it's black on chrome

East with biggie and group home

Whip, plane, motions own

I thought van-city was home

Yeah, you can tell em that i’m home

I woulda done anything for my own

Of rotten mold inside your noggins cottage home

Born alone, work alone, die alone

Matter fact, my connection's pretty weak at home

Gets older, bolder, and cold cause he's left alone

Lets get fucked up to the bone

Hardly thinking of the girl at home,

Know i just call it head phone

Simple bar spitting then going home