This is a song about "Garbage"

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

Came from a pail of garbage, hard as nails, trailer parks,

Lifes a big garbage truck

But you know what

Creations of garbage meaning you have no vocation,

Stab him, put a arch on it, pour unleaded gas on him

Jazz talkin, i bet i pick and roll with your bitch

You frail artist, ima get rid of ya stale garbage

I literally could shit on paper and it'd be better than this garbage

Salute me, game: invented it, and you can't get no membership, little bitch

Partially garbage artists depart on par with rat carcasses

With an impending mixtape that only seems like a myth

All ready to slice ya, and throw your life in a garbage

Getting money, duckin' haters, nigga i ain't loafin' bitch

Ive been discriminated against, evaluated than tossed out like garbage,

Well give me grab iti was born inside a love zonewith a glock-nine young marriage