This is a song about "Your mam"

Blood stain, your slain, your brain

Blow trees like a hurricane

Pullin' up in trucks, carried off in a bus

While your basic skills are your weakness.

Niggas in the street scared

And keep for your self your comment

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

But i don’t mean top 40 hits

Your eyes it's my paradise, your

Or something that you paid for

Your over worrying

A break from what you hearing

I’m at dulles with luggage fly straight to the money

So i suggest your change your media immediately

Then lost my faith again

Blood stain, your slain, your brain