This is a song about "Local"

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

Is heaven just another door? and my people say

Trust me, i attend the local church every sunday,

I set up a meeting with the local neighborhood botanist/

But she gon’ get this dick and chew me up just like some double mint

As far as some know, this man's woe was just a local uncommon pun

Snapping necks and records in matter of seconds check 'em son

Keep it real as penitentiary steelthis ain't no freestyle battle

I hold the title of local idol, i'll run this shit like a motorcycle,

And i'm the same, on e'erything i love, or everything i love

Runnin' to local rap studios, to watch mcs rappin on mic, becomin legends//

But his deferred, and blurred and changed in shapeit's fate, it wasn't my choice to make

My whole is about to reshape, feel like im playin games at the local arcade.

Even though ghettoes and hoods are part of the local past,

Enough fucking atheist rappers to get a nun slapped