This is a song about "My iphone"

Ya can see my, my, my, my kick-off so shout

I'll keep it moving and tryna get out

Don't believe me, just watch

My iphone need the charge

Young'n in the fader like laundry

These my rhymes and my story

Drunk white girls the only way i'll get my dick sucked

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

Weres my opinion, whats my religion,

Fucking chin-checkin' punks 'til he's outta breath and done

Ya so fine i got to give it to you

Both- baby you'll make my, my, my, my dream come true-----------

And he, what's his name, earl

Lost all my friends, my fam and my girl

That's because thats these compton streets was built not to win

My words are my ignition for my ammunition,