This is a song about "Copy"

Sitting on the couch, that was my uncle bobby

When i write down lyrics all they do is copy,

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

Way before i knew addition had the new edition copy,

Of the very same baby that the virgin mary raised

The human racist, motha fucka probably copy and paste.

I crave victory, but i don't copy a rapper's history,

Roll along and got tipsy then tonight, tommorow you the mystery

I promise, your shoddy rap copy so sloppy

And i don’t know why you fuck niggas can’t see

She said, "don't be fucking with nobody

Youngin but i know an og from a copy.

Lips, hips, hair drips down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy

They either compliment me but speaking a rampage some copy me