This is a song about "21st birthday"

Then some lady named billie holiday

If it's my #birthday. fuck a #whore in the worst way

He died on my 16 birthday,

What the feigns say, few roaches you need spray

She tell me i got that flame, your rhymes are so deep

Don't like my birthday gifts so just give me back the receipt

Destruct straight 'n' bust flames, gave birth-day/

Back in the motherfuckin bay

Chain, and not two, unlike that fat guy without a brain but a birthday crew.

Lobster over salmon and i ain't ever tried to tuna you

It ain't my birthday today

I was raised this way

He fought us, got caught up, now selling dope on 21st block corner

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

Those privileged fucks got to learn that we ain't taking no shit

Isn't it ironic when i label 21st century songs vomit,