This is a song about "Outside swing"

350 on the stove and it's 90 outside

Ain't that how black's do it, right

And your shit is glass thug and you never outside

In this life you dead wrong or ain't living right

Epic, they used to feed me detours

While these thugs outside let the chamber push,

They are not confident when im talking

I'm king, do my thing, you will keep trying to swing,

I swear my peoples keep a strapped like pinky in the movies

Cause on the outside there's image everybody sees

Then i will gladly go back to my emo rap

I swing at you with a golden bat

In the face of the outside.

Now move back over here to the right

In the face of the outside.

Aw man, it's been a ride