This is a song about "Bad back lack"

No fx, in these doper than sess sessions son

Wish i could take back all he bad things ive done

But i get the dough, shit i might splurge on one

You lack proper means of comparison,

Im assuming you lack

Where the black girls get their weaves back

Make sure it's mean so them fiends keep on coming back

Crying about what i have and they lack

Manic and panic, attack your lack of attachment/

In this rusty cunt, that won a cup in collectin' dust

You lack sincerity, clarity and lines

Aye, lifes a bitch, and i'm cuffing mines

Cause we capitalizing on all of the power you lack,

I deserve a medal, lap 'em on every track