This is a song about "Pat smith the professional hockey player"

But screw the fake player-haters, their pain, anger, and rage,

I grabbed the ak, my homie took the 12 gauge

I'm a word smith, but the lines are blurred bitch

On the sizzle, p90kill yourself like you're in college

I'm catching myself depositing these feelings she withdraw from

We at the bar takin shots like bullets from smith and wesson

The saxophone player and the little kid flowin',

Snorin' in the bed with blankets cause my head spin

You get a thumbs up, pat on the back

The jager in my cup is licorice black

And me? i'm fresh prince, i'm will smith to the hood.

So i gotta get my point across like a snitch would

Severed the clocks hand and pat myself on the back!

So as soon as i hear y'al on some real pro black

Im not the player anymore im turning into the coach

I been trying to show you somethin, got a different approach