This is a song about "Tyler compton"

Fags from compton, socked him in his fucking chops: won

I give em a script, you bitch nigga's my children

And him and tyler keep it trill like andre,

Young peyton don't huddle, still run my play

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

First verse got me feeling like tyler the creator's relapse reaction

Why so serious, tyler

When it comes to spitting that fire

I told her this here's overrated but i love your city baby

Compton burn swishers and watchem get lower than the tits on my old lady

That's because thats these compton streets was built not to win

Forever in debt to the lord for he's given

Just gettin you a job then i zip that broad tryina get in them walls like ghost dad

Im rolling into compton, unknown and forgotten, with the sign caution, on my back,

Sorry... lets go tyler.

What is hittin' for