This is a song about "Shooting the breeze"

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

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

Lonely roads, the windy breeze, crackheads out cold alone,

Whining and complaining about when you coming home

So for this time being, i hope this open scribe might support her

Shooting ink upon the looseleaf like a lazer

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

Eyes all stickin' like honey on bees

Like me, when i'm shooting for the stars/

Trying to move foward, though it never stops

Say i’m destined for fame, well i am very afraid

You niggas need an upgrade, chilling through the breeze in window shade,