This is a song about "All things go"

The white boy sees this as a clearance, now its

Put you on a swing n all kinds of freaky things

If only i could rap to you

All the things we been through

Shoutout yo baby momma, that bitch is sorta fine

But one day, will find, like all things, will come with time

These hoes thuggin, these nigga's bitches don’t know the difference

Imma make em proud buy em all the finest things

I'm worried about the things that could go wrong.

It's funny how pucci made all the snakes gone

Say there mr. mirror, put yourself up to yourself and then

Things come and they go theres no need to miss em

I'm leaving you for the last time, baby

Imagine being me, all the things that i see,