This is a song about "Our wedding dy"

Oaktown still in the motherfuckin house

Circus full of tears and forgotten wedding gowns

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

Selling us our own chains. confuse our wants with our needs,

I'm different and listen stop it with the wedding ring

Somebody tell justin beiber that i'm fuckin' coming

Wedding presents got my best man at the best buy

You know me, cool breeze, a nigga high

Oh, not again! another critic writing report

Our love was still there but our minds were lost

We teach our future our past

Spend the night with me, we'll talk and

Your our provider

Run for cover and return fire

Mother died in a wedding dress, it was a depressing death that hurt his youth

I'm just trying to paint that picture, when i'm rhyming up in this booth