This is a song about "Knots of the kuchen tackle"

If lay-low thinks he can start shit, well i'll tackle him,

What's you motivation, huh, what's your motivation

The things im most scared of

And panned out, i'm all in love

The right hand of god, the left of the devil,

See these lights got me on another level

Shaved of the face of the earth

Bored of the shooters

He took it to pitchfork, he couldn't get a sentence

I pack a lip, smack a bitch, tackle her and crack her ribs

Big homie hov said i am close

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

Cause they right down the street

Of the coke and the smoke of weed

Coz the money of is in the hands of the president

Left hand staggerin' on her muthafuckin' breast