This is a song about "Wooden clogs"

A bunch of backstabbing niggas, hope the knife ain’t there

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

You killed the nigga, i stole a bible, is that a sin

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

Young money, cash money so strong, keep scorin’, i’ma bring it on home

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

Blindfolded my own insecurity was holding me back

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