This is a song about "Mother fucking like clock orange bliming blowing for agent orange"

'round the clock, till i make my own clockwork of orange,

A few niggas talk but they do without knowledge

Going at it holding orange coals, tryna cope

I grew up looking up to niggas that was selling coke

Walk like i'm drunk, swagga so uhgodyard trunks go around i got a bunch

But anyway i want to make sure that i have to calibrate with an orange

Nigga, rap, you fuckin' suck probably

West coast niggas got more roots than a orange tree,

Your heart literally is what i do want for lunch

The numbness of reality like an orange

But you’re my fucking mother

So it leaves me to wonder

The people scared of annihilation when kingdom come

Make you see red orange yellow like its autumn

A'int nobody like your mother fucking bitch ass,

But anyway, give me cash fag, cause i'm low on gas