This is a song about "Patterns"

Pushing keys like them niggas that were banging on the keys

Neurotic thought patterns, the need of room to breathe

Now, if you was the last man walking on earth

Lemon drop, drop acid, never stop thought patterns

Is that my grills clench for answers of these stench patterns

First i have potential, now i got them answers

We are being wiped off the face of this earth

Anchored to expected patterns

I'm imaging the patterns

So you finally got the nerve

The richest place on earth

Anchored to expected patterns

Play me for a stepping stone then, i land mine, huh

To patterns that's reminiscent of a sierra