This is a song about "Hustle till i die"

And i love you, wit all my heart and soul till i die.

If you don't give a fuck, put your hands up high

East side till i die, brooklyn is my residence/

Don't make me shoot up this place with light sabers and guns

And i know that your supply

I hope you will till you die

Cause i disregard the white dress and the perm weave

But i fight till i die or win,so i can't leave

I'm smoking psychedelics, i hustle like a felon

Where i'm from is a circus hope you don’t expect a fair one

Till the day i die i'm running laps around these wiretaps

How i'm like bobby deniro, joe pesc and them cats

My teacher said impossible but i’ma fucking try

At night water flow to my eyes ill be a thug till i die

They gon tell you that's a lie, lie, lie

Makes me wanna ride till i die