This is a song about "How cool i am"

Hit the pen and now no sinnin is the game plan

A parakeet resembles just how high i am

Fire in the hand, supplier of the man

For how smart i really am

Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bangsniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry

After these, how can i hate that you're confused on who i am; when even more i

Strapped up, know i keep that tool

I know you think you cool

"if i do that, then how am i gonna blow bitch?

Lot of intuition, i ain't never finished college

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing

Here i am sitting, wondering how you are, how your doing