This is a song about "The nfl draft"

The streetz is aint the safe

Left brain, super 3, creator ace

We have nothing in common

The bigger the the fun

Soon as i turn the bottle more liquor spillin' back

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts

I'm the nigga with the juice

Yea, smoking loud enjoying my youth

Kinda pop tart, when i bite into them red

My mind's crippled i need a draft in my head

Rough draft is what i title this

And i don't rely on no bitches

Or call you up, or send a text

I dragged my draft, prepared