This is a song about "How crystals are made"

Death maps, in a lion's sense, alliances, are made by riff-raff,

But i don’t knock you i just blame it on your old head, rats

How you gon battle me wit a style dat i made up?

Then to be in my face asking for a rose cup

Got a brain, a car, and a bunch of crystals,

Took her to the club bought her three more bottles

This is for the magic grill where noodle dreams are made

Minus the love, they feel like i was something to hate

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

The angels are baffled how well i entangle,

All my love to these queens in here

For real my fists are made of steal

And i could see you coming home after work late

How every choice and every move made

And my only fear's a wedding ring

How my writtens are invigorating,