This is a song about "142"

Stack in his hand trynna make that last

That we can't forget the past.

And i ain't shallow, material things suppress bad luck

Under pressure i don't sweat like my pores shut,

When am i gonna finish this?

Hoping that nobody don't notice

Put expressions in their music and create the face

The marathon of this game always changes in pace,

With a fistfull of poop,

Pockets probably like fried food

That shoebox shit, over with,

This is how she want to live

Pooping - having a blast,

About disaster in the world and

I'll snatch your girl if you're slipping

Sitting on the toilet thinking,