This is a song about "Lebron of rhyme"

For the sake of rhyme, throw in herb dean

Weed they can't fuck with, i'm puffin a.c. green

I'm a fucking walking paradox, no i'm not

Lose track of time when i rhyme like i misplaced the clock

I'm just doing my thing, trying to think of the perfect rhyme/

On the sofa, poppin' bottles, at the same damn time

Told em it's five quarters so i guess we going overtime

Thinking deep inside of my mind, and writing a rhyme,

I'm doing the same thing

Getting the lebron feeling

My real fans gon’ ridegot my own shoe, clothing line

But off of that story, let me get back to my rhyme/

When i'm fuckin' and we on cloud nine for that minute

You're the punch line of every rhyme that i spit.

Produce the type of rhyme to give you bumpy epidermis

Cause i walk around with pockets that are bigger than my bus