This is a song about "Imaginary numbers"

And if he can't learn to love you, you should leave him

Imaginary senses manifest in your motion.

Young strugglersracing the clockain't no telling when it all can end

Start the imaginary vynal, never idle, but i might pretend

Until the day i put 100k inside her purse

Girls on the street asking for numbers

Proportions of the profit, runnin' numbers in a circle,

O.f. is the coldest thing, and i'm the fuckin' general

Went out and had a church of kids

Mo' green numbers than the matrix

Baby told me that she never memorized a verse

Old rubber burners feed kids, have to run the numbers

Charlie sheen on them haters, they dont wanna let me win

Theres imaginary blood and theres something tappin

Imaginary friends at a foster home and leave u with the blues. u prolly don't

You couldn't ship gold records if the only copy you pressed was solid gold