This is a song about "Sore"

Making these fool sore over his last whore.

Gorillas at the door fiends sleeping on the floor

See, my bitch is the type of bitch that gotta keep it real

A sore feeling we're dealing with killings ill and surreal

Beating you with hard metaphors till your spine is sore

Knowing i can go wherever and get 8 more

Though she can hardly walk cos i had to make her sore

My visions that i record, the instruments i adore

You want beef? we'll start a gulf stream war

Each time we had a cold sore

The money gets closer when you seem to be grindin' more

But honestly hes right no need to cry and be sore

Flow so sick thought he wrote the rap for him - no sir

Set in store through each sore formed by this semi-auto repeater

I breed 'em like i'm going to war

Each time we had a cold sore