This is a song about "Being a foster kid"

I was born to do the damn thing

Took the form of a human being

Fuck a quarter, i wish you well being

But right there, they still scheming, they not eating

Or was i just a desolate being

And she would do anything for everything

Raising a kid on your own

Stop blowing up my cellphone

A dead-pan soul attributed to this kid/

I bet they thought they'd never see a big gone good

Visualizing being a college graduate,

If you still gon' be on some crooked-ass nigga shit

My two nines go biya biya when i shoot 'emkorean motherfuckers was crooked

I'm tired of being a stale white punk ass kid, that raps about poppin off the pill lid,

Imaginary friends at a foster home and leave u with the blues. u prolly don't

With keen flows.i'm known to rip rhymes you see letters floating in the air like ghost.