This is a song about "War machine"

They say that i never cease to amaze

And this machine gun pointed at my face,

Spitting bars like a technical machine

Show ‘em how much they really mean

A perpendicular, angle of the clout war

You too young and you don't know what i'm fightin' for

My rhymes are machine guns, semi-automatic

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip

Eyes real low, just blame it on the green

Your going against the mean killing machine

Not relying on the light no more

Trying to maintain in this war

And there's little to be glad for

Money is worst than a war

Okay, so play d, know what i mean

Clean time, lean fucking killing machine,