This is a song about "Punching throats"

Don't harbour cut throats, blades and sticks with sinnin' intentions

Don't make me shoot up this place with light sabers and guns

We still staying laying lines with sore throats

Other words, fill ‘em up wit’ holes

It's no wonder why i go in any hood like i am knowing

And their throats be, closin up in fear till their choking

Perhaps it's a musti'm facin cases

The way i'm punching in these crazy phrases

Keep on punching, and do better than anyone can do

But every nigga who can read gotta get his issue

Sometimes you go stores and buy everything that you see

Slaying when campaigning punching babies as if i was cam brady/

Give me black bitches, white hoes, new clothes

It was like we had a noose at our throats

Tryna come up with words and im cummin at their throats,

With my hand under oath, i recite these quotes