This is a song about "Bout god"

The dead society of a poet

Yes we bout it bout it/

And i got a little big, keep it low key

What you talkin' 'bout if it ain't 'bout the money?

Declared myself a god

Pork on the fork, white in the pot

Yes we bout it bout it/

You be on that stalker shit

We don't understand god

I know you just doing your job

Until she figured out that she don't really like to bang cock

Cause i'm beginnin' to feel like a rap god, rap god

She can only take so much more than her heart got

I'm beginning to feel like a rap god, rap god

Right side, right side

Thinkin bout suicide