This is a song about "Line"

They ain’t got no life ‘cause they always on mine

Can you faggots keep up line for line

Honey face it you've crossed the muthafuckin line

In a turtle neck, thermal jeans, spit purple wine

Let them sail to finish line,

Start whine, my gyal, start whine

Save some, save none at the same time

Didn't know i was somewhat out of line

Shit, see that thing there was mine

But have a meaning in each line

See if i ever crossed over that line

You better get yours fore i reach mine

Let me put my funk on this one time

I shoot from the 3 pointer line

Till i shine at the finish line/

Welcome to organized crime