This is a song about "Sort"

I got ways to sort beef like shattering jaws on concrete,

Stuck in positions. if victims can't stand the heat

Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice

Smoking weed, inhaling illegal chemicals, looking and hoping for some sort of relief,

I'm in dulles waiting on luggage - luxury baggage

That i had some sort of edge, some kind of advantage,

Is this the sort of man you want to be?

Knowing you can no longer party

Suddenly i see a structure of some sort... blood and sweat drips...

Yet don't owe them niggas nothing but potent lyrics

Well if its phony your only cause i can get you ins

Aboard with swords n' forts but no torch to sort regions

Secrets r hidden within the clouds

Talk down to me like im some sort of mouse,

Tryna get inside your mind without that night shift

I was pretty nervous and sort of embarrassed