This is a song about "Whipping around with hoes a gettin lit by the beach"

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops

Gettin' stopped by cops with glocks to rock socks,

Cause i got caught up in the scenewondering what would happen to this

And lit a spliff to ponder upon the abyss of kids with no lunches

And we gon' take it do max but i don't know screech

Then we light a fire and have some drinks on the beach

If sam rosen never rolled and malcom never spoke

Real nigguh by far these hoes went by a telescope

Then maybe have a couple babies live in a little house by the beach and

If this was a game, i would be considered a mothafuckin' legend

One man band, ready to chant up an avalanche

I'll spray you with gas and toss you a lit match.

So in the mean time, keep it moving or accept that

No difference whipping you with a rag or my lyric attack,

With a stick of freshly lit dynamite.

Maine, bay, the burf baby i'mma book ya' flight