This is a song about "Two eight eight"

Let em marinate, you forever late

I'm level two, you're level eight

Figure eight clocks, see the hourglasses stopped

I'd rather have me no job than no heart

At twenty eight i'll have plenty of taste

And i feared that my fans say i failed

Two dyke jawns but tonight they straight

Eight inch blades and the tick of a grenade

High outer space no atlas got a lot of bait

But the meg count's off half down to one twenty eight

But i overshine ain't no niggas over sean

Out came some shit looking like a lincoln log eight feet long,

You're level two i'm level eight we don't equate

Dropped out of school never made it to the 12th grade

Lost my mother wen i was barley eight

Hold up, wait, these nikes don't got no date