This is a song about "Wack call of duty players"

See me, i’d rather cut let ya body give birth

Look deep inside my train of thoughts, gold ring players,

Ain't no nigga touching my style, it got a force field

Call of duty is what keeps you from being deceased

About to slide out but i'll get back at ya ooh

You're playin call of duty four while i hurl on you

Insightfully write that right so keep your parasites paralyzed

I get gritty on wax like record players- i'm the slayer of that kind

Fuck ur wack bars u weak version of a mean person

Hard to move on when you always regret one

What them tippers don't see

That’s my call of duty

Your esteem's out of wack like a dealer shame it seems that life's grass's isn't greener

I could give a fuck as long as there’s something that’s behind of her

Did you call wack, they aint never rollin back,

Greed written on her face when i bought her first bag