This is a song about "Copy machines"

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

Of how they keep you still and down, convert people to machines

Way before i knew addition had the new edition copy,

And every night, believe, we gon' leave with somebody

Copy write my name, didn't even put citations

Golf wang kill them all nigga, triple six

So either you dont believe in a nigga dreams

My rhyming's like the finest thing since time machines

When i write down lyrics all they do is copy,

Bought a brand new car for my after party

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

As an arsonist i freeze originals leaving them breathless without a copy,

I spit verses hard and mean statistics say mine are fighting machines,

Yeah, you swear your girl is faithful; everything ain't what it seems

Wishing to copy, they do it sloppy

On they twitter writing novels, see