This is a song about "Stapler"

Pockets morbidly obese, i'll be tourin for loot

One bird squawked now they don't hesitate to shoot

Im a killing machine aint no one gon stop me,

Now i know a lotta styles, some see

I go to war, old timbs, battered boots

I'd rather shoot, you nasty brutes

Oh thats yo girl? last night that bitch i pie creamed.

Like a fuckin machine, a goddamn fiend,

Spitting bars like a technical machine

Where i'm from, if you ever seen what i seen

In the face of adversity, i prepared a verse to see

I guess i crunched yo bones in half, a machine like ed reed built me

Your going against the mean killing machine

All my niggas is winning, shout out to charlie sheen

All my niggas get together to gather loot

Sometimes my life drives me insane and to cock and shoot,