This is a song about "Your a mindles drone"

What the fuck? gee willikers and no, i'm not drunk

Drone strike on this site call me the government

Yea, smoking loud enjoying my youth

Pure as a diamond, your angel, your muse,

To my unborn child

A picture in your mind

Inside your minds a bruised ego

I ain't tryna brag though

And all these peasant motherfuckers take shots at the throne

'till that music is imprinted on 'em, programmed like a drone,

But once the smoke clears, you right back where you was

Quit your job call your boss a slob who needs a wash

Music is a soldier everyones a drone you're all mediocre

Well look, if you don't talk, i mean these sessions are going to go slower