This is a song about "N"

Packing guns, n' tackling bums.

Where you welcome to problems

Sure he died in 96 n

Cause i've been sentthe heartz of men

They'l diss your dissonance n' rip your ligaments 'n' dick quick

I'm recordin' that shit on the fuckin' little mic

To strengthen your defending 'n

We have nothing in common

Whether you rhyme slow or the beat fast

She smiled n' laughed but inside she sighed n' grasped,

So y'all can cope n' touch

I feel they praisin too much

More mistakes could be made ‘n

Atl was tipping them