This is a song about "Being picked on"

I'm recordin' that shit on the fuckin' little mic

Find me on the block being part of a statistic.

Picked the blade back up and put it on the side of my neck.

But i can't cause my eyes are red, now he's dead

Or who did, cause i did

You easy stealing picked pocket,

Yeah, that there is a fight in itself

Do you plan on being you or someone else,

At dinner with hov hoping that he pass the baton

Picked the worst career to be stable on, cable's on

They ain't authentic, tell them i don’t even relate

I can't correlate the weight of being served on a cold plate,

Come on tell me why quit being that guy,

We havin’ a celebration, love to stay high

For going on being

A break from what you hearing