This is a song about "Tracks still bombing"

Keep your eyes open, i can only say i'll try

Producing tracks from the mental till i die

Nigga, rap, you fuckin' suck probably

Winner of the tracks, ricky bobby

He pumped reeboks, his uncles pumped packs

Walking to town on the tracks

Bars like cars the way i speed on tracks

Tryin' to make iti only got one chance

Dope sneakers and dope speakers for fly cats

They were partying i was cutting tracks

Trap our young black seeds

Tracks hyping bitches and freaks

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

This is something different

Bombing on her like a fucking rare mortar!

Don't let me break, please make me stronger