This is a song about "The regime"

Where the ball meets the wall

Didn't do a thing at all

In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.

I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close

Just searching for the perfect shot

From the bottom to the top

The streetz is aint the safe

Just know that i'm always

The flooding of the nothing

In my drawsring, ring, ring

You're fucking with me, nigga

I bring the heat like the

Wale and we are not the same

The realist in the game

The little cat was practice, for my later regime.

Maintaining my modest modest as i dream