This is a song about "Red cell"

There is no where you can run your in the cell

I'm like the man on mars; i'm high as hell

But don't expect a ring if you committed to the hustle

Tactical, my brains cell are individual

I got so many bars i feel like im in a jail cell

And even if i do i know my momma gon be well

First letter says motherfucker you're dead

Covered the room in splattered red,

Left to fester in a prison cell

True player, cory mo cold as hell

And people don’t care if they’re locked up in a prison cell,

Calling niggas really knowing they dont give a hell

Covered the room in splattered red,

My real estate sweet, yea ginger bread

It doesn’t matter whether i’m locked up in a prison cell,

And all these bitches that i hung with ain’t doing too well