This is a song about "Beth greene"

But you hate them navel kisses

'cause thee mes-sage is in-fec-ted with

Her mom died, heroin overdose stuffed in her wrist

Many faces, trading places, diggin' graves, slaves patient,

Names and graves and the poor children who's parents are now gone away.

So hit me with them cups, ron artest stepen jackson, yea

Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records

I leave flowers on the graves of these cowards

Still i gotta sickening sight seared into my sage, no scholar

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

I grabbed the ak, my homie took the 12 gauge

Now's the time to show i am the legendary sage

Help me pay my little rent, maybe sit in a benz

Had a bad effect and it made you smack beth

Infatuated with becoming a relevant star

Cruisen grassy till' i damn near crash the car