This is a song about "Metric and custamary"

No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble

, iffy and pitiful , shitty and beautiful,

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

I'm gettin help for this addiction, now golf ain't important

The smile after i'm done, the weight off of my shoulders that felt like a metric ton!

Holla; cheech chong & folarin, only get high when my lows come often

We might be back in this baby

Living young and wild and free

And stop playing hide and seek,

I’m way harder than the concrete

Riddles and jokes and scary crows

Like the limbs on ya feet, i suppose

If it's me that catch you, you're fried

And kill yourself and your clique

Slice and slash, bite and gnash, bite and mash, fight and smash,

Me and my nigga wale let them suckas pass