This is a song about "Arabian diss"

Cause it'll never be the same hereso i wipe away the tears

You're obsolete, i don't even need to diss you, you diss yourself.

Don't realize this is a diss

Shopping i’ll be in paris

He probably studies all my lines while he's writin a diss

This my zombie circus, i hope the majors heard this

I reel them in, goadomes on see

The diss went from witty

Pop, pop bottles on all these bitches

Through the grapevine yeah they diss diss

It made its way home like a road map, i fathered this

He's a pro at suckin', fuckin spittin' slow with his shit diss

I’m better stacked that you never diss

As my record label nitpicks at this

Get my taste from all of my bitches

Spit a poem or a diss