This is a song about "Load"

I'd never sell crack in the ghetto and don't load chambers,

And you can underrate me, but i know what i'm worth

I fucking hate this job

Of support i can load,

You know i’m stickin' to that proper code: strapped up, lock n load

So i catch him stretchin', have him guessin' where his cracker throat

She was the queen of the club

Black on black lock n load blood for blood

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

Paparazzi, magazines: please leave me alone

I was a black sheep, but now i'm just a goat

My friends adding on to the adaptable work-load,

And i know u cant handle this heavy lyrical load

Then i switched the grill on the chevy, got a nose job

Tell me who's as rad as us and the answer was

Load the chambers, claiming 'round a million stages,