This is a song about "To of the charts"

To the rigors of the industry

Must be something you want me to see

I got lights on my wrist that’ll flash like cop

From the streets to the charts,i was not

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms

I'm purging old habits of studying these rap charts

Harder to escape the jail cells and bills

To this part of the narrative

My self esteem was like me, tall and full of flaws

To be indoctrinating the most cynical of pawns,

Hit the green like running backs with no yards

I'm calling these shots i'm jumpin these charts

Yeah, that ain't you love, you can't fool love

Contrary to the rule of the wise generals