This is a song about "Bad at golf"

You, you, you have to pay for that

I used my rhymes for bad

Every visit to neimans, i swear don't even see a tag

But if i'm at it, mathematically, the money ain't bad.

I work at, i work fast, you twerk bad, hurt that ass

'09 gold diggers, walkin with a different path

They took her by the throat, we front in here for dope

Lookin' at the bad bitches, smokin' on the best smoke

On, thanksgiving we thankful, just for livin in helldamn homey, i don't mean to be harsh

Feeling ripped off, like ya went to college and majored in professional disc golf

At first i didnt know how bad this shit would bother me

My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

You shook my world and it felt apart

So much green my new car should be a golf cart