This is a song about "Omega"

Y’all are like snitches, you can’t see the pen

After that swore i'd never do acid again.

Ass-clappin' standing on applauding the effort

Makin anything happen, im the maker.. say word?

This lactic acid is tormenting me

Now i know a lotta styles, some see

My shirt, purple label my shirt

Every word for word

Had a woman bust it taking that matter right

The fatty pork, all hail hell's gate, dreams steamed and glorified,

I had to fight back and shit

Tipping acid, little ratchet

Spitting acid, melting all the spirits away

Young peyton don't huddle, still run my play