This is a song about "Who do the call"

A lion in form, matt leinart when firing the ball

I got problems but i don't know who to call

Fuck cops, i'm a fucking rock star

Who do you think you are

Sold crack to those who do crack in the strip

Double m-g not to mention we got that

But i can't cause my eyes are red, now he's dead

How do you have the nerve to call me weak, yet

Swallow the cinnamon, i'mma scribble this sin and shit

Who ever thought the young boy would turn around and do it?

Can’t take no more of your shit cause i can do better without you

Just another dead nigger what the fuck do you expect from some one who

Soon to smoke em by the yard till my lungs can't get through

I mean who the fuck is you to tell me what to do,