This is a song about "Optics"

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks

Because when i ignite i'm damaging your nerve endings and optics

Shawty look half indian and never say a thing

Focus your optics it's obvious they're sneaking

Conclusion as my optics opt to start perusing

You little niggas little league i'm the real thing

Cause it'll never be the same hereso i wipe away the tears

With the finest logic set in motion a plot with televised optics

Givin' the topics, spit 'em through optics, from the ghetto that malcolm roamed,

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed

So prepare your optics, here comes the synopsis

Okay i'm trying to hit, something's just gotta give