This is a song about "My budies"

Dub a.l.e., still a son of a gun

Weres my opinion, whats my religion,

Homie popped up with about twenty bags and

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

My name's kingpin slim and i'mma son of a gun

My compulsion/ concerning my transaction in my cabin/

Snorin' in the bed with blankets cause my head spin

My words are my ignition for my ammunition,

My nitty bag, my kitty boost

But in reality your just being used.

My destiny's written in my blood hidden inside my head

Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

My leisure, my pleasure, my light, my love, my measure

Thats how i live my life thats my motto thats my armor.

Bet i be like fenway out in boston, my green is a monster