This is a song about "Bein a sucka"

Pay my haters not too much mind

I'm stressed just not quite, obsessed with bein' liked

As: i know just what you mean

Sons and daughters, thanks for bein

Niggas who be rapping how real they are

Sucka, i let the whole rebel gang fuck her

I'm triumphant like trumpets, yall bein played like a fiddle,

Weird niggas make sick too i don't need no pistol

One of the coldest, the gracing on that pole

Is bein' broke as fuck, and can't afford a noodle bowl,

Look at her hair accuse her of bein a lesbian, she says hell naw i just like the hair style,

And certain death for us ghetto bastardswhat can we do when we're arrested, but open fire

Man this life is but a dream

At least for the time bein’