This is a song about "Mcdonald s"

It’s sick and spiteful, 2pac’s twisted grim disciple

Tints ain’t legal, i ain’t ordinary people

Leasin' a vehicle quick enough to see people that don't even exist yet

That’s why the paparazzi made that nigga hit his fucking head that’s what that fool get

And i'm participatin' in this crazed game of the 2000's,

The best is that which i accept and nothing less

Till you scream " what s my what s my name whats name!!!!

I like the way you talk ya game we mite be one and the same

Tats all on my arm, these hoes say i'm that bomb

Wait what if it was the "great"'s ghost on

I'm not talking m3's, but this is your survival lease

Crazed raised off hennesey, tell me will my enemies

My levis, they 501, my snapback is hella bent

S on my chest like a superman vest

Cause i have got "s" plus what a dog's tail does

Welcome back to class, bitch, grab on to your glasses