This is a song about "Chillin wit the bros"

Deranged just like a satanist, the ways that it betrays my wit

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

Kid! i’m so dope wit’ the flow

Never break, took a break though

When you be runnin' for the win, i'll be chillin' at the finish line.

Swear to god man it ain’t a rhyme, i grind for a piece of mine

Tryin to get a motherfucker to telland couldn't nobody diss my nigga

All these 12 year old bros turning into hoes, its so bad i feel like calling the

Im just chillin, confessin my guilt for killin the game

Flyest nigga in this bitch, and i don't even own no chain

Chillin in da park wit bad bitches in my sight

She in colors and shit, she off that northern lights, right

Knowing you was getting by hardly

Than hit you wit the ko like ali

Incoming callplus this my homie from high school

Chillin' at the cottage, drinks by the pool