This is a song about "Machine man"

I'm seeing things that's being mean making me sick

My rhymes are machine guns, semi-automatic

Slid across the floor and flew right into a washing machine

Went to sleep at seven never woke up from the dream

And red alert was puttin in work, with chuck chillhad my homies on the hill getting ill, when shit was real

Like your a machine without a heart your working , like im talking , and telling you how i feel

And this machine gun pointed at my face,

This is no trial, this a closed case

I am just an artist

Machine the way i'm skilled

Just before they seen my money in the green

You know what i mean?it's a rap machine

But i show the black machine gun funk when the time is right,

The binocularsha ha ha ha, yeah nigga time to ride