This is a song about "Acne cream"

People don't condone what they've never seen

But... what's oreo without the cream?

Stacking cream snatching girls for my team

Starin at the wall, heard a scream

Your lyrics got me reaching for some asshole itching cream.

If i don’t make it, then somebody tell my son screen

When the relay starts i’m a runaway slave

Then i'll rome with the gods, rip the acne from your face,

I spitting bars the metronome the money machine

Never commit to stacking someone else's cream

They gon keep on watching, give em something to see

Better check ur facts b, i pop tags like its acne,

50 dollars on some shoes you ain't ever seen

Y'all wonder 'bout the money, man we got plenty cream,

Chrome lips on the forgi's damn near swallowing the street

We pop tags like its acne, passin l's to the backseat