This is a song about "Not really dead"

King of the club, i bet you can’t top

I'm not goin down unless there's a dead cop

An eighth of grape ape hella joints to the head got my eyes all varsity red

Of willing to aim, a gun, to your forehead, its not fun, to wish you were dead.

Now i can look ahead, not dead yet

So im like fuck it, im out get on your head

Get the zippo and spark the shit

Not really, man i thought i could quit

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

A convoluted story, not really

I steady the flow, ready to blow like snotty tissue

About around acting nice but they really not but once you

I do not know how that dead body got inside of my trunk

And you nervous cause ya ass probably feel different

That's equivalent, to the poison in a cigarette

Still got my future ahead, should be happy i'm not dead