This is a song about "Savage shit"

I told him get his 9 and run

Im a savage beat assassin

And shrimp might run and tell the pigs

The savage with the statics

Went thru my phone saw a text, and then she wrote her a message

Practicing poses in the mirror yeah he swears that he's a savage

Life is like a phone booth, these pigeons is the fuckin' toll

Savage, a placid assassin stabbing your back with a jagged pole

You fuck around wit a real savage

Head for breakfast, fuck for lunch

I’m blessed it, cross-sign baptism west shit

Too savage, i gurgle acid

These lines are inscripted the picture image of me is pure savage

When he see the jugs he will wanna rush to get a quick touch

You claim your mean and got a savage team but

On they car note to go to the club