This is a song about "Tracks"

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

I stuff you in the trunk, drunk

Let me teach you all the sounds of love

Kicks ass spit tracks so blasphemous

As i take you through a ghetto nigga's lullaby

Producing tracks from the mental till i die

Tracks hyping bitches and freaks

Sleeping in a cell, it's been 30 weeks

And skinny jeans ain't quite the lick

I'll smash tracks and act sick

So nigga listen you can probably learn a lesson perhaps

I rap fast avoid the haters and look good on my tracks

Winner of the tracks, ricky bobby

I got the right to be cocky

I hate rap like kramer hate blacks

Dexxter killin killin tracks