This is a song about "Tires"

So i tried to show her about the world and about just who we really are

Im burnin tires comin down the boulevard higher then a heaven choir

Shotgun in a satchel in the back of the tires

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

Hit a rhyme dip off n' just dash. slash tires bash liars,

Baby told me that she never memorized a verse

Miami bound with my d.c. chick and we let it fly when we in the club

You can hear those car tires on the road unless you tell me what's up

Tires screech on that road ground

He just throws it around

Don't call it a comeback, i been here for years

I'm a race car you're a van with flat tires

So ya better get lower than flo-rida inside of a lowrider with no tires in the hole

It'll be a classic bro, u'll die in the clash but no impact will be had on ur plastic soul

A bunch of backstabbing niggas, hope the knife ain’t there

Then come back later and slash the tires on your wheelchair.