This is a song about "Sore"

Loc’s on, chucks low, black beanie dogpatron top wash straight from the liquor store

Wake up in make up on the floor sore with a whore and sock hung on the bedroom door

Knowing i can go wherever and get 8 more

Fuck a restroom, i'd do it but my dick's too sore

So ain't no future fuckin' youi ain't tha bitch ta love yacan't do a damn thang for you

You lied down sore and booed i am up pale and blue i ain't got no wings but still i forever flue

I swear these bitches look up to me like i'm doing here

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

Alot of episodesand as the glock loads

We still staying laying lines with sore throats

Takin' over the scene, couple stacks for the feature

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

But honestly hes right no need to cry and be sore

Head game outta control, super heroes on the floor

Why you sore huh? you go and just diss a dozen kids

And anybody who plays sports, you know you got politics