This is a song about "Skipping clocks for my man"

This is for my homies in the pen, man i rhyme tight,

If you see us on the floor, you'll be watchin' all night

My family's bold man we've worked for our past,

But never that, i'm hungry for success and i never fast

You the man, fame, here's my man cane, reaching for something

Now mama see that shit on oprah and know that it’s coming

What preceded was the clue

And man we comin for you

Your intestines out and use them for rope skipping

And fuck the fat lady, it's over when all the kids sing

Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin

Alarm clocks roaming, my words still snoring

Knife in my pocket to compliment the glocks..time's up bitch..stop the clocks

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

So all the hustling for nothing man

Fuck it, its hip hop and niggas don't give a damn