This is a song about "Late nights on the phone with you"

Them niggas lack bars like underground when their celly ring

I runaway with lights flying, waiting till day the nights dying

You didn't even talk to me on the phone

And firm his beliefs... his heart made of stone

Sitting in the room, on the phone, cooking up orders

Baby told me that she never memorized a verse

All the shit that his dealing on his own, if only he had a friend to phone

Tell the lady in the liquorstore that she's forgiven, so come home

A million home sellers couldn't find a realer state

Cause you chose to fuck with death and now its to late

Behind the velvet rope, snapping a lot of pictures

Now i see you talking on the phone to all the other girls

On the come up just starting a little late

Where every recipient, property of the state

Late nights, just me and the microphone

But i be like for real, just pick up that phone