This is a song about "Wooden chairs"

And my only fear's a wedding ring

Ima just sit and wait my chairs reclining,

Mr. i-don't-give-a-fuck-about-you what they callin' him

Rotting in a graveyard garden, six feet deep in your wooden coffin

That why when he outta town i make sure she is not alone

But a pole position you couldn't hold, not even your own wooden bone

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

I open a door and see demons playin musical chairs

Baby i ain't liping, i just tend to keep my city there

I can finally rest in piece and sit in my wooden chair.

Dead faces keep my money in a body bag

My realm is shillack, my wooden floor's got a crack