This is a song about "Metal"

A metal piece from a bomb cut the kid's throat.......

Shit grand like a muh-fucking bass load

I love a girl that think a lot, cause sex with me is mental

I herald the gallows, hence i beat to death with threads, ropes, or metal

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

Ok, chief-in on whatever on another level

I’m here forever, these other niggas scribble in pencil

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

Metal chair is imperative

We ain't buying cds, we striving to live

Flexing metal to the pedal with the ghetto behind,

Its been a long summer, and i've been on my grind

And you wonder why poor teens wile and press the metal,

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Metal as fuck, i'll go next level mental if you ain't careful

They say to get a hundred mill you must become the devil