This is a song about "Pouring the syurp"

Tears pouring out they eyes, eyes wrecked, stomach aching/

And i bet you all them letters in your mailbox waiting

And got her room number, you can find me there

With rain pouring down her already wet hair

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

Half these niggas working now, they knocked it down, they're going back

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

That's me spitting this fucking garbage toss

Ha, i'm super freaky, no top on the ghini, no flaw in my diamonds

My building blocks yelling skeletons pouring in other elements

I get vision of blood born pathogens pouring out of my pores.

It's going down in history, the way i valet two doors

No soprano, half black half white, i’m a piano

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

I started to pout, might find it pouring

Nah, niggas they dont wanna let me win