This is a song about "My bruvva"

8 in the morning when that street clock bust

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

My name hold weight and you don't really keep the bar raised

I felt my body get heavy, from my neck to my waist.

She vying for number one, tryna be number one

My compulsion/ concerning my transaction in my cabin/

Girls fast how jamaicans run

Grab my knife and my gun

To have my name engraved is my crave till my grave x2

Probably seen meaner bars probably in the feds

My shirt, purple label my shirt

Its no days off, although i'm bored to work

My words are my rhythm

Flyer than the rest of them

That is my wish, my fantasy.

I'm sitting on this couch, wrist bloody