This is a song about "Copy"

The human racist, motha fucka probably copy and paste.

They see me in that lavender tank, you'd rather just faint

The therapist said hello but my mom would wonder

You aint fuckin dope your just a copy paste editor

And it's impossible for you to copy my rhymes,

Violence on my uncle, was working with two strikes

When i write down lyrics all they do is copy,

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

Heavy weed smoker, get ounces for free

Wishing to copy, they do it sloppy

Y'all could be the star in my ficky spot light

Ya'll some copy paste rappers i'm the real deal like

With your flashlight, tell me what do you see

Youngin but i know an og from a copy.

I found myself losing focus at a sunday service

Corporate motherfuckers, yeah, y'all can't even copy this,