This is a song about "Solidstates of matter"

And life's a bitch, don't hit women so i bit her

They're busted rhymes on the wall of shame, cause they don't matter.

But the fact of the matter is, were a country in need of saving

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

Or will we matter? in the end, this rendition of life

Temperatures risesniggas blinded by my lyrical disguise

It wasn't a matter of my cannabis passion!

Nah, niggas they dont wanna let me win

I still be splitting women like a bogus hocus-pocus act

Call me vanilla nothing offends me, oh as a matter of fact

Doesn't matter the time of day, not even the weather.

My nigga banks just be ready for whatever

Its just a matter of time, guess we'll wait and see

Tired of making money, i'm on to making history