This is a song about "Pale from jail and the hail"

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

Me and my boy's up in jail chopping up nigga's with razors.

I'm the flowking hail to my throne

Put my number in your phone

Dropping all that thun thun thun like your soap in the jail

My bitch got the tendency to put it on the scale

Get ready to hail to the king

I ain't with the talking

Now i was dreaming bout a deal at the age of thirteen

He's pale in the face and walks limb and mean and itches greed green,

You can ask los, i was like a young gale

Plus i keep it on lock, like i'm part of the jail

Been trying to put it down long after i was signed

They threw away the key, but couldn't jail your mind

Look in the scope, my people still a target

Or in the cell in your jail, say your hello, from it