This is a song about "Parallel"

And got her room number, you can find me there

You can't touch these lines i'm spitting them parallel.

And i'm the same, on e'erything i love, or everything i love

They're attracted like parallel magnets after your graduate talents

Warfare and religion seem to run parallel,

Well that didn't go well, let us try to make it swell

Getting through to the parallel universe where i see my clone

Young money, cash money so strong, keep scorin’, i’ma bring it on home

Do not give a fuck i've got the swagger of a virgin's dick

With these 'parallel verses', you couldn't touch 'em if your lines were slanted!

You can't touch these lines i'm spitting them parallel.

A bunch of backstabbing niggas, hope the knife ain’t there