This is a song about "Load the glocks"

Child support ain't come, that faggot still ain't bought me anything

A thug on drugs, a gangsta, load the chambers, it's rodney king,

With the cops in hot pursuit, who poppin' glocks, top recruits,

Let me enlighten you, i am the brightest of the youth

Knife in my pocket to compliment the glocks..time's up bitch..stop the clocks

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

So if you see us in the club, go on and walk the other way

Don't mean to be the party pooper, but i got a shit load to say

See i'm never home alone, test me and i'll load the chrome,

The streets in need of a king, you can tell 'em i’m home

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Load up the rifle, so damn predictable

That man there throw wale on the shelf and i lose

Locking the nine, load it up, dissing bitch crews,