This is a song about "Critics"

Critics’ drool a miniscule growth in his ego

And ya section know when any day tecs could blow

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

Y'all need to know, you cynical hypocritical critics,

Heavenly father, martin, malcolm mixed with them lyrics

Like a magician, critics i turn to crickets

Critics fear it mystic malicious

Let me teach you all the sounds of love

Eat the shit rap feeds me then regurgitate it on you critics,

For honey, i will live, be a father for the kids

Put on a clinic for these critics

They bringing me fish and chips

Shut the fuck up all those critics, because we've chosen to speak,

So my outlook's dim and my house is eventually without any heat

Raising my fingers to critics

Weight stand out like pimples and cold-sore lips