This is a song about "Saint s row 4"

This just ain't no song shit, do this for my city joe

If the feds run up on you , you're going to death row

Smoke until i ain't got no lungs

Tried to be a saint once,

Too much percussion and bass when i take beats

Make them experience with 4d front row seats

Ima lay it down and have myself a taste

I'm a blessing but no i ain't a saint

She dealing with killa so you love her taste

Pretend to the judge that you were a saint

I don't want no shawties lined up in a row.

I've been fly, i'd could probably show

We take our seats, in the first row out of eight

High outer space no atlas got a lot of bait