This is a song about "The cell theory"

Cause i feed you well. every sneaker, hell

These wack bars imprison me like i'm raised in a cell,

On my way to the top with theory,

This is like riding through the city

Why are we immersed in a theory of heaven?

This meeting just begun, nigga i'm satan's son

I'm still heading toward my twang theory

But respect is more real, and ambition the key

And the only block he's reppin' is a h-block cell

‘cause that’s the case i'm known to pack a tool as well

But its true who knew the rude dude in blue from cell two

So would you please listen to what i'mma need from you

It doesn’t matter whether i’m locked up in a prison cell,

Thought she hot i swear, probably rougher than hell