This is a song about "Windows xp"

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

With the wheels fallin off i shoot thru the windows make him crash into his mommas curtains

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

Green windows looking like they're made of stained glass, gothic

Lock your windows and doors at night, better watch out for my knife

I'm no longer a saint, jeremy shockey for life

See i know when the harsh reality take it's toll

His blood chilling windows start drilling into my soul

'cause late in the night she'll be stoning my windows

No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose

Im shinin too hard on these hatas roll up yo windows

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

It's late and you stuck in my basement

Keep your doors locked and your windows shut

2 v's in the street, blowing trees with hoes

Fuck a club, in the whip, windows up, blow o's