This is a song about "2005"

Making money was the ideal

But this real, fuck how you feel

Though my credits are slept, my ambition the best

Since im not suspect, im still a suspect

See, william lynch had a master plan,

Like as if i didn’t know man

And find the fruit contaminated

And dip her teeth in gold molds and flossed the shit

Peel back their fabrication,

What up girl, tell me how you been

Real talk, yeah my rap is concentrated

After party crib full of broads all naked

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

Yeah, ima keep it realer than a documentary

Im unrealistically realistic, this beat, i control

I ain't superstitious i make all these broads split my pole