This is a song about "King jam"

The undeniable rise of a king

Folarin said we 6 million and running

Is heaven just another door? and my people say

Scott la rock, proof, big l, khadafi, jam master jay,

Teaching me to jam, writing scribbles with crayons

Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve

Shit's a traffic jam, and we bomb pakistan with gats in hand,

Auction coke to the coppers, glocks in the locker and

I'm feelin like a king,

Or the chick leaving

My shit hair-burning, you not even a lil’ tan

This is your jam, unless you got toe jam

I know that bangers jam

They talk say cool jew na the man

To witness the realest shit that's ever been told to man

Eazy-e, the grand poppa of hip hop, his beats used to be the jam//