This is a song about "Topography maps"

Now if you give us a chance

Relapse, collapse, brain maps

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

Death maps, in a lion's sense, alliances, are made by riff-raff,

Yeah ballgame, i swear the hoes wasn’t in my plans

Leave you lost in this jungle giving none of you maps

Lately i've been drawing some safety maps

Glad trash bags, throw them in the black bags

New batch to patch, back to making maps

He pumped reeboks, his uncles pumped packs

Direct shit like google maps

She do it with no hands

Cause i ain't really lift weights, i didn't need them

Makin' people freak out like the maps are mayan.