This is a song about "Out of control"

Were we can grasp control of you all

Hands up, throw me up against the wall

In control of everyone, that's got to be a fun job

So you snap like mewhen these devils try to plot

There's a battle for control inside of your soul

Life is like a phone booth, these pigeons is the fuckin' toll

Your bitch likely tricking off and bruising up her knees

Demons, these angels just took control of these beasts

She lashes at me, out of control,

18 year sentence with no parole

Were we can grasp control of you all

She suck my dick while i'm on a call

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

Grabbing control of your brain mentally insane with the shots