This is a song about "Uveals is back on the mic i m a puy up a fight ima pound your moms snatch and pass"

A true reflection once i go and get behind the mic,

But i'm giving it foundation when i write lyric

And proceed to rip apart this mic but i guess i could pass it off to the right

American dreaming, days of a heathen running up in your building at night

Go on, look for a better nigga: girl you can’t find

Nothings left but a mic the will to fight and change your mind,

Got a pound in the trunk ya know whats up, smokin on that ganja til the sun comes up.

Take a puff from the blunt and watch the smoke swirlmy mossberg goes boom, what's another plug

I got the sickest flow, i got your moms seven digits for 1 dollar not a penny mo,

Creep with methrough that immortal flowthug passion got you tremblinglike death on the row

Why a black nigga take ass over class

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass

A washed up queer licking tampoons out your moms

Bail was a quarter mill, they put me in a box