This is a song about "Bar t"

I’m tryna be low key to keep my self out of t

That bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

6 o's pay for my car

Drunken bastard from a bar

Keep your eyes sealed and stomach every bar

I'm tryna better my chances of becoming a star

You know...you know who you are

Wearin’ my lees, i’ma bend the ply bar

In fact, lemme pass the mic to man big t"

If you don’t recognize, you gon’ see

So much hate in just one bar

Ay yo you wonder who i are

You is not hip then i can not coach her

I now raisie the bar higher

Bar fresher than a motherfucking peppermint

Come here to picture how he bumping his fist