This is a song about "Boot verbs"

Tried them didn't work, got impossible standards, nothing i ever do works

Its either a bless or a curse, i cleanse the weak with a breath of my verbs

I'm driving in a stolen truck, and i'm probably fucking drunk

Bodied n' be a wake early, like a boot camp-jail sargent.

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

Give them bitches the boot if they can't perform the square root

Boot full of the ounces

Let's have a toast for this new love

But here knb my verse is over its your turn spit your weak ass verbs.

Perfection doesn't exist if it doesn't consume her and the truth hurts

Iaint tryna hurt nobody i ll just spit some verbs

Love my women with high heels and high standards

Bodyguard for what? dog, i'd rather shoot

Then next thing you know you'll be getting the boot