This is a song about "Silent guards"

// [you can call out your guards]

I got these tats all on my arms

After this stern talking to, you better be silent,

What the fuck? gee willikers and no, i'm not drunk

Perched on a large arch, lurking on ten restless guards,

Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards

// [you can call out your guards]

Please correct me, stretch marks

Making the guys who belong silent

Lean like the side of the shoe on a giant

Auction coke to the coppers, glocks in the locker and

At times discreet, used with power at best when silent

So now you apologize and your silent

They love misleading them having there beliefs fucked

Hot man, god damn, killa cam be live

Got some prison guards keeping bastards captive,