This is a song about "A boy who sends snapchats of his balls that haven t dropped yet"

Age thirteen, rapping like a machine, and nothing is stopping my cold wind flow that sends shivers

Deep into her soul, slow, now he's in controlpop's doing worse, a victim of his deadly curse

When he was undressing said it'll only be a minute

This anger sends me straight into hate, yet i'm embracin it

Ugh, walking on water and running on waves

The giggle of a school boy who might jus miss behave

I'm official nice, y'all niggas fisher price

Back of his head they roll, pattern like that of a dice

When it comes to spitting that fire

The one who can´t even show a real smile

Am i just a country boy, who rocks

Trying to move foward, though it never stops

It's that crack, give you something to sell

Not thinkin bout the boy that you dropped off in hell.

Yeah, inglewoodinglewood always up to no good

I grab the seven dragon balls and wish that a nigga would