This is a song about "Metal"

They'll probably think i'm middle class 'cuz i don't press the metal,

O.f. is the coldest thing, and i'm the fuckin' general

While the gang-bangers bang-bang, poppin' the metal,

Odd future is children that's fucked up in they mental

If a fucker shot your family you wouldn't release the metal,

Serving gumbo with a shovel, dog i'm on another level

Just ...pedal to the metal

Real slow yea i'll make you feel special

Locking down every block and put up metal detectors

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

All these dealers sayin' that they flexin' the metal,

Money’s on the mental, my efforts monumental

Tell em bitches they can get up on my level

Heads were droppin', pistols poppin', teens coppin' metal,

To new levels of ignorance, makes us hard as metal plates,

Wale, more times than not, am not for whom the air waves