This is a song about "Selling phones at work"

Pluck ya ace, take ya girl, fuck her face

Phones booming got the police on the chase,

This song about you, then you probably need to leave

I moved here, work at grocery stores, there are factories,

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

It's 6 am, i'm solitary, calling with pay phones

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips

Master tactician at work, crafting compositions

When i write rhymes i go blind and let the lord do his thing

I work at dolly dimples, flip pizzas for a living

Been at work needing the bucks dreamin' but aint been sleeping much

No coach bag if i go with that, snake skin tote that cobra clutch

Gasping for phones, but ain't nobody even home

Hit towns with coke, a .45 blue as chrome