This is a song about "I m dope"

Make me wanna write my own little song for you

It is religious conquest i`m trying to pursue

I m not making u feel that u r my dear...

And i wonderwhere will i be next year

Cos i m working in this shit...which my daddy made...

Churches with dirty pastors my people pass the collection plate

I´m so high, my shoes so fly

Blowin' fluke horns, i'm not high

I m stuck with my laptop in this shitty office...

Now momma told me be careful who you love

Is written in our souls, africa

I"m ah gut you and the bitch that's with ya

Momma just unaware that i sell dope,

It's ironic they call me a fresh breath no joke