This is a song about "Trappin out the bamdo"

Knocked out in the lunch in

Hmmm where should i begin

Scratching my back, let the words get out

After your hoes leave the jets' hangout

Little nigga so they picked on him, hassled him

Jumpin out the gym, jumping out the gym

So forget lawrence,the guns,the fightin, and the trappin i rather move on

See i give my heart to an unforgiven genre where passion is frowned upon

They label me a backpackin' nigga on fashion

And i knew that i'd make it out one day!, rappin' or trappin'

Never lookin for a handout

Just thinking of the blood freak me out,

Horder straight trappin', hustle and grind, hustle and grind, my flow is sick

Shakin' like it's parkinsons from the clitoris of kelly clarkson's dick

But the truth always comes out

Get yours; you know what this about