This is a song about "Sex mony drugs guns"

Fuck rappin' about smokin' drugs, they hurtin' your lungs, tons, of guns.

Until then, my feet planted on the ground, shadowboxing my conscience

A coward dies a thousand deaths

Me and your mum had rough sex

Cause my mother let me do what i want

Still no drugs, guns, knives or lives lost.

Convertibles with turbo jets

I call heads, but i get sex/

Artillery weak with guns

These chalance give me balance

Forget it its in the past memories pass i rather not rap about guns, drugs, and ass,

All i wanna do is sit back and watch you move and i'll proceed to throw this cash

Of you wannabes rapping bout thugs,drugs, and sex,

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

We bustin' like shot guns

Now, nigga, it’s the prince