This is a song about "Bipolar luck hate"

Run through the puddles, playin' in the mud

Don't even try to push your luck/

Money i make em buck

I wish you best of luck

I’m pulling you over

She say boy you bipolar

I said i don’t give a fuck

Super duper future luck.

We're young and we don't give a fuck

You go and push your luck

Must be enough to counteract the the bipolar lust,

But if a nigga catch a nut bet he feel different

{*both*} but first lemme, lemme, lemme talk to her

They'd tell you i'm some bipolar, steroid user

Good morning, good raps, good morrow, good luck

Who the fuck invited mr. i don't give a fuck