This is a song about "The law of matter"

Met the babies, giving them rules of gun law

I'm feelin' chris childs, you lookin' like kobe bryant jaw

Yo check this outi'mma tell you like this

But the truth of the matter is,

New grove, still bitches don't know this a flaw

I thinks its sad youve yet cross the law

The trunk ain't raw but we running from the law

So en garde, my god we got these artists in awe

Weight stand out like pimples and cold-sore lips

Me im one of these anti law pigs

Principal of the matter is ya aint got what it takes

I'm so fucking raw haters hoping that i catch aids

I get it crackin' like the lips of a nigger, actor

They're busted rhymes on the wall of shame, cause they don't matter.

20 racks really thats sneaker money

I break the law and have the court write me