This is a song about "Cannan is ratchet"

I spit on it, i'm ratchet, make a racket when i grab the pen,

Cause i hella copped em so i could be way flyer than all them

I felt a tear roll down my facethat was daddy's bullet

Your temper tantrums are ratchet too pacifists to catch it

This is like riding through the city

Knowledge is power information is key

Fuck your ratchet hoes, i kill the mic with spasmatic flows,

The flow cold as a shoulder of a gold diggin hoes

Kill him where he stand and stand over him, shake his hand

He smoked, she drank, he stoned, she ratchet, he clank.

What is it? it is nothing,

And now the present got you struggling

Anything is possible

Shout out them strippers who hustle