This is a song about "Im killin it"

Now im killin myself slowely, and lonely,

Wish you was around now to see what i've become see

Im always killin in the mic,

So drop the slam and let's get sick

The possibilities endless, what to expect, i'll stop this killin spree, fuck it, who's next?

But then they'll have an accident and pick up another mani went to the bank to cash my check

I'm killin it anyway, beat it up like my name's rocky

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free

You and i are different, i'm killin it and you're surprised

I give up my light like an interracial couple wit a child

I am not paying no motherfucking retail for purple label this summer

Until it hits em, like a mocs a killin' 'em and they're six feet under

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

I'm killin it! my hand's the detonator to rhyme bombing.