This is a song about "Super market"

We the 93 chicago bulls baby

I'mma super nigga need a cape for me

Look i'm fly, super saiyen high

Y'all gone hear a nigga momma die

I am the hardest in the market

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

Throwing super heat, my girls a super freak,

I'll tell you true stories, how i coldly hold heat

Put on the black market, skin sold as garments.

I done seen embalming fluid ruin a nigga promise

Spit calmly, the market only gave out tickets

So here i am at the store for some chips

And if you got it you gettin wet, nigga bet on that

Until he sell his own cd's at the market