This is a song about "Lead"

You smell the ounce, i ain't even in ya house yet

No words generating from his pen and looming on the lead

You already know you're dead

Zeds fucking dead bullets made of lead

The last of a breed, that won't ask for the lead

For that living large, but mama i ain't done yet

Crackas watch my every step

Injected with ket, meth, lead and jet.

You tryin hard to maintain, then go head

You have a hound on a lead,

First letter says motherfucker you're dead

In a few years ima be taking the lead

And baseheads stay dead, and people are ready to take lead,

Make my women follow dreams, pussy popping follow head

I guess i'm leftwich cause i still get to win

Don't need any assistance, gotta lead the mission