This is a song about "Working till im dead"

Think again motherfuckers, not till im sober

The red album, lil red shortie, you can't touch her

And im watching the throne, waiting till im crowned

Girl you’re gonna want another round, another round

Im so ignorant i'll sip till my obituary

But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see

Till they dead in they own piss

When you feel like this

But they’re pulled in ‘till they’re dead or sitting at death row,

We got stripes in my city, ain't none of my niggas yankees though

Like your a machine without a heart your working , like im talking , and telling you how i feel

And red alert was puttin in work, with chuck chillhad my homies on the hill getting ill, when shit was real

And she looking for them trees, baby we got some

Preaching on green like im working for a lesson

She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars

Im dead, they're searching for any sing of life like im mars