This is a song about "Per"

In this cracked crack fag back slab in disguise

So tell the rea-per, can i live one more life

I'm watching the berrics getting head from someone's parent

It starts to go downhill by 9.8 meters per second per second

While everybody got ammunition on deck

And if they resort to mix-tapes, my feats'll beat 'em per cassette

Ironin' you niggas now it's time to starch the shit

Criminal intent, out of breath, reach limits per minute,

If this was a game, i would be considered a mothafuckin' legend

And this is only the second of eleven mics i'm wreckin' per second

Take some from the early bird and start chargin per compliment/

They say i walk around like i got a s on my chest