This is a song about "Osam bin laden"

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

It's growing thick skin, so trash talk stays in the bin, so it can't get in...

The rich bin diminishing tonnage as kids rummage through the chips in the rubbish

Just can't understand why we gettin respect nowmomma told me they're be days like this

I can hear the bells ringing off the nice dream truck

My fame is bin laden, yo, we blowing the fuck up

From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks

Im ad lib bin while the sticking to script like magnets

Don't put shit into my head my brain is not a fucking bin,

Athlete mentality so fuck my competition

Put the glocks on the bench pull out the knife ur fear laden eyes widen u start begging for ur life

Ran with the local crew and had a smoke or twoand i realize momma really paid the price