This is a song about "Lots of niggas shooting bitches"

Drugs, sex, killing and lots of madness

Oh yeah we're old as fuck, we didn't have our glasses

Smile on my face got me feeling like the shit

Its never stops even though you got lots of it

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips

Mechanical energy is lots of gears

In your ears as i kiss ya, on every curveslow down baby don't rush, i like it slow

Lots of internal rhymes here so i'd spit this kind of fast in order to feel the flow:

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

You can call me a prison, cuz i got lots of bars

Vigorously flipping bitches, niggas getting sick of us

Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus

Lots of them haven't even met me

It's obvious i'm crazy

Executions deadly i'm slayin' lots of bars sittin pretty with finesse.

Thank god for what i did with blocking against this shaky defense