This is a song about "Music theory"

I ain't worried bout shitbitch i'm the shit

You make elevator music

Got the passion for the music

Get the zippo and spark the shit

I just wanna make music,

I never crack i got that chap stick

Hit me up in a couple days, we can try again

No theory can explain how i love the pain, blood drips like rain

Tired of making money, i'm on to making history

But that's a theory you must turn off all your tv's to see

Chips, chocolate, pop, popcorn and music

And get a hall pass for this class-act shit

Hard to make it in music/

I’m blessed it, cross-sign baptism west shit

Ya'll don't even know the name of my flip

You just dont seem to understand music