This is a song about "Machines are special too"

Spendin money on machines,

Now i'm living out my dreams

You bet i bring a pencil, cuz my lyrics are so special,

I ain't got time to swag nigga this is monumental

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

I spit verses hard and mean statistics say mine are fighting machines,

Your lines are too too simple like a single fish in a pond

Walked up in the shop, everybody lookin' shocked

When we rumble, it's a catastrophyout for revenge on bitch

'cuz my motherfuckin' parents are too poor to pay for college,

But when i come around her crib, i go in on this chick

Too perfect they think i'm bionic my raps are super sonic

You brought and chose, guess she moving on, yep, we do it wrong

Are the poor and sick and tired who've been fighting too long,

Cause they are too many innocent blacks n' latins in prison.

Lyrical pictures, they used to have a windowless vision