This is a song about "Left her in the studio"

You know where to find me right up in the studio

I keep a level head, gettin high layin low

I left him in the room, proceeded to the kitchen.

But i just wanna know if i speak could you listen

Workin' in the local blocks, sellin' goods n' sweets, for money for studio time//

I'll be the underline i'm-trynna get beside you like the number 9, dime

Painted in light by the artist who left the chalk mess

And i'm a legend in the flesh that dress to impress

They label me a backpackin' nigga on fashion

Or left with her mother, to beat him before the strangle him,

Just know you hatin on that nigga, nigga get it straight

When i leave the studio i'm gonna get paid

But in the end, you left me in the fryer/

The nerve of this prick, he said fuck it you can have her

A scythe in my left hand and a sickle in the right

Listen, i said we gonna have a good time tonight