This is a song about "Tenth floor"

And slid back north of course to pen more

Bust rounds in they chest till they fall to the floor

I'm so pure, so sick it's no cure

Getting fucked by the tenth bull

Fuck fame, i love my fans just a little more

When she looked we pretended to stare at the floor

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Chasin a 600 benz ambition after the tenth

The floor with your phrases,

Rub the wood and ima show em love

Semi's on the floor, please shut the door/

Army stance, ready for war

Or your designer clothes littering the floor,

And they sore on hatin' reality that i ignore

I dropped the rusty blade on the floor.

There she go, just what the doc's been lookin for