This is a song about "The decloration of independance"

Thinkin of the the dreams

I'm why baby mommas leave

Of the coke and the smoke of weed

Even when y'all deep, y'all still all sweet

I'm a victim of the money, of the cash in the hundreds,

From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks

Got the eye of tiger, spit of cobra, form of a dragon

I’m popping now, every other hour, paparazzi come

And please never disrespect my set

Beat of the drum soon the rhythm of the dead.

The one who em talks of

I'm breathing for a purpose

The king of the jungle

Got to the end of the tunnel

Huh, man of the year, the man of the... work!!!

Oh, a taco joke, domo smoke, i heard