This is a song about "Record straight"

Half your body laying on my chest

Drinking straight from the keg record on my desk

Wolf gang make a white pregnant bitch wan' abort

Until someone gives a try on a old record,

[record scratch] the industry is backwards to me

Yeah got to the club early just to get in free

The record labels would end up signing us/

My criteria ain't even that serious

Bomaye, killa cam, my lord

And you only write, don’t record,

Thats why my flow flies straight,

J. cole runnin' late

Now let's go toward your record

Manahattan and 40/40, no 40’s but rose poured

Now they telling me im not allowed to rhyme on the record

No crucifix chains, i’m ain’t sure if i’m forgiven, lord