This is a song about "Shooting the breeze"

She like me from that no hands but i'mma need her to use no teeth

But for now just roll it up and just become one with the breeze

... club, we'll be actin' real nice

Watch me rock the house with a breeze

Crazed raised off hennesey, tell me will my enemies

The strange fruit, crops growin', blowin' in the breeze,

The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',

Little nigga so they picked on him, hassled him

Niggas fightin 'cross the whole planet, so it could never be peace

It's nothin' to me, nothin' to me, nothin' to me but smoke on the breeze

Words shooting out the barrel faster than excalibur slashes

Like a condom that's scuffed up, i'm the wrong one to fuck with