This is a song about "Candaces 6 month"

In kitchen, whippin' blow, it got the same damn crumbs

Kicked out 'cuz the rent is nine-hundred dollars a month,

So i threw it in a rap so i'd remember that

Its been a month since he lost his guts to rap

But we be having that jersey

Lyrical wizardry

Barely rapped for a month and i just tear through it

Throwin round wallets like the dude that kid cudi hit

That's equivalent, to the poison in a cigarette

Waiting til the beginning of the month for the check

If y’all important, i come at you, firing poems

If the parade was scheduled for third month.

Oh how she love the gangstas, they love them green ones

Another one till he cums and leaks for a month

Scrilla fan, oh boy and

Marijuana potent,