This is a song about "Storage"

Well give me grab iti was born inside a love zonewith a glock-nine young marriage

Still in my skull is a vacant, empty void been using it more as a bin for storage

But for now just roll it up and just become one with the breeze

Your corpses in a crematorium storage, no worries

But guarantee all of my women got designer drawers

So stop braggin about cheap whores, you faker than storage wars

Double s shit, swastikas on the letterman, bitch

I'm hopin' to go and bust some rhymes i have locked in storage,

We don't need y'all, the fader's who we really fucking with, bitch

You cant afford a mortgage put all your things into storage