This is a song about "Weight loss"

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

Run a cartel like a real rick ross

I deal in heavy weight

I feel good, i look great

I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close

Loss of time for play-doh; i'm steady spending more pesos

Freedom from loss and so freedom from gain.

Just plain pat visions with some sick aim

Ur havin' a loss cause ur flow is stiff

Who know this be the life that i really live

But in the end it is his loss,

Organized crime, i kill your boss

That'd be the day his label treat him like a signal fade

Like taking off a sheer hundred pounds of nothing but weight,

And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade

Or spam try to get the cheese, while ham we holding weight