This is a song about "Words rhyme spit struggles weed doing better fuck haters"

You're the punch line of every rhyme that i spit.

I felt a tear roll down my facethat was daddy's bullet

Wants to fuck with cause if so, you better lay low cause i spit fire with desire

And certain death for us ghetto bastardswhat can we do when we're arrested, but open fire

All these haters get aim- itis evrey time i spit

When i'm fuckin' and we on cloud nine for that minute

Spit rhyme after rhyme, i'm flying off the page

I grabbed the ak, my homie took the 12 gauge

All i'm doing is saying words and making them rhyme

I drew designs for consumer's minds so in time

But fuck it, we love to smoke weed,

From the back seat, back seat

Getting head counting bread, at the same down time

I rhyme cleaner than janitors doing overtime