This is a song about "Losing track of time"

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat

Didn't you now, i'm climbing a mountain of track

"the king losing? its time to squat"

This the shit that get cripple bitches to hop

But i'm not revealing the stress of losing whitney

But times i'm so serious you think i'm silly

Nigga ain't nothing sweet like a kool aid pack

I'm tired of them talking smack on my track.

Top dropped down, black on black

Thinking of how to get on track

I'm fantasizing in my mind bout how your body feel

The aching and pain of losing treading on the back of your heel,

Sweating in my sleep dreams of losing what i keep

But all i really want is a kiss on the cheek

Chat up your lookin off your knee pad

And some of you may oppose to this track