This is a song about "Vip bottle service"

Weird niggas make sick too i don't need no pistol

I begin to spin the blue bubbly bottle

There ain't no pills left 'cause i swallowed the whole bottle

That means i wear a suit and bend the truth and feel awful

I'm mental, it's instrumental

Drinkin ciroc out of the bottle

Me and kweli come together like two pieces of metal

Looking for the answers at the bottom of a bottle

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

Just seen another brother buried plus i knew him for years

Defeated, beaten by these demons in a bottle

They must come with a bible, swine flu, and a pistol

Pops gave me the juice now im killing the bottle

They just need convincing like malcolm little

And when we on the road, bitches follow the tour bus

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service