This is a song about "Con men"

And showing you and yours that breaking rules is fucking cool again

We are inside looking outward, that's the only way as men

Makes me sleep and blown by men.

Shit, we don't believe none of them

My raincoat, and gold wrappers, amen

Don't be ashamed he makes mice of men

And the old men snore at marshall mathers

It's 14 racks, what i put on that purse

Man in the mirror, i can’t get my shot again

We the moody, gucci, louis and pucci men

I had never fit in with the men.

And do i need to mention when

My raps thee bomb call me d-con i servin u vermin some venom

I’m popping now, every other hour, paparazzi come