This is a song about "My 9"

Plus big truckin too it's nothing

My determinations disgusting

I can taste the salt from my tears

Wrote my first track in my teenage years

Damn, i'm just waiting for my life to begin

My rhymes aid your decomposition,

Ricky is sitting, baba was sitting

My joint is ticking, my eyes sinking

Someone is gonna burst my bubble

Rack city, rack city she need a shovel

A coward dies a thousand deaths

My wondrous success bombs my regrets

Let's face it, i can’t replace

I need it my way, i need 9 trays

With my guns your get antiquated

Now you got me hopped up on that