This is a song about "Lighters"

Who holler back to days untold with cargo-holds of golden lighters.

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

And you ain't gotta go to war

It's bic in this bitch all lighters galore,

Alias, mussolinimentally unstable, "g" status

I then fucked up, i forgot my lighters, but i have matches,

I'm the sick mixture, pricks i'll give ya shit to lime lighters,

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years