This is a song about "On an on"

Keepin' an eye stuck on that so it won't dry up like an ancho

She call me all the time, i ain't no regular joe

Fixin up an eye-cam on the top of a pyramid

In that 09' range while i'm singing old tre shit

As: i’m layin’ in the cut waitin’ for your mom

An ironic icon tryin to turn my mic on.

Not an afghan but i get my terror on.

Let's buy guns and kill those kids with dads and mom

Cuz i acknowledge i am far more knowledge

Sipping gin an you cringe on an oxy binge

Chima ferguson's bangin', you ace niggas is low card, wolf gang

Rythm it's off on tha station it's a lyrical race an

Some niggas ain't got no luck

On an empty stomach

Catch me on fly like an air craft carrier

I'm on my grind feeble, my music is either