This is a song about "Buried borders"

You ain't ready to get married but to get buried

Niggas clocking dollars don’t know how to read with mouths to feed

Push you into an old lady bagging plastic

Roses/ and immortal tactics buried in my attic

Defending your kingdom’s borders against us with knives and rifles,

Allies that turned to rivals, niggas turned street disciples

Smokin’ indoi roll my window down

Gettin buried in a white gown

And if i do go you better come through

When i buried you, i buried me to,

That we picked up at the last concert

They buried them in the dirt

Buried and killed by the worlds eighth wonder

You ain't more street so go suck your mother

We gettin’ chicken but these skinny models wan’ eat

Buried 6 feet deep foreva and eva asleep