This is a song about "Being misplaced"

Took the form of a human being

No kids, no ring herd she do your own thing

Cause i’ve been counting all this dirty paper for a minute

To being a being and beating the back roads and being it

Step out on the block all the bitches they still in shock

Lose track of time when i rhyme like i misplaced the clock

Flapjack, ooh he bring

For going on being

For going on being

Boy, i’m doin’ my damn thing

It's like being in a breadbox, but only being a crumb

Niggas hate us, but we famous so i never blame them

Fuck being counterfeit

Lord forbid, for the good kid

And the blogger has their reviews in rear view

Your misplaced aggression led em to