This is a song about "A bunch of faggots who can t rap"

Girls swarm on me, like a bunch of bees

Got tired of running from the police

D j t j is here to save all of rap

The real muscle in the message of that

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

And we're tired of you fucking faggots, so can it

And them which is more of a circus than a fair

A bunch of temptation facing when your wife ain’t there

A bunch of knuckle fucks who snuck a buck but it doesn't matter

And i won't be lyin' when i say i’m a sick rapper

Got a brain, a car, and a bunch of crystals,

Took her to the club bought her three more bottles

All of you faggots off the map back to reality its time to rap.

Can i meet that, where you be at, everybody try to beat that

There's a bunch of cocks in your ballpark that you can blow bitch!"

Blow my smoke out the window, dropping ashes on the bridge