This is a song about "Losing your son"

Get more props than you've got in your whole life son

Only fear death when you staring down a loaded gun

That's your opinion, son, i'm giving the facts

I gave ya'll wizardry with my hands

That i just haven't came up with a name yet

Son, you think your good, get it out of your head,

I wanted them on my debut, but they ain't wanna listen

To realize that some would much rather drain the light from your son

Your tries are slurred, my knife is shoved inside further, you frightened, son?

Or any type of suitable living condition listen

Give me tall glass, coconut ciroc, please, no soda pop

You quit your job, you look lost i think your losing the plot

Apprehend a couple men, triple six is fuckin' sin

Where's your vest son? death's on the cassette slot, not resurrection

Back of your mind, i know you wanna stop me son

But hold the beat, he ain't speaking for everyone