This is a song about "Your lining"

But i'm a lazy boy but there's change in my lining

When i write rhymes i go blind and let the lord do his thing

Bitches lining up lines snortin like its a banquet, so high bitches leaving me babies in baskets,

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments

Your family, your friends,

Sethered your spine, your movement lines

All the time with this glock of mines

So these bars not mine, nigga it's yours

My gun your scars, your wrist your calls

And the food could have been finer

Your on fire.. your on fire

See my desire for the lust, fucked up what was love

Freezing your nose, your eyes, your corneas,

Well, i have a gram cupcake mix

Fuck your bars, fuck your demons,