This is a song about "Crosscountry racing"

I'm singin poems for supporters of my songs

Pacing back and forth mind racing like a track horse

Never realize the precious time that bitch niggas is wasting

On the inside i'm shaking, epileptic brain and my hearts racing.

And you’re girl working out, i let my niggas train her

Tripped, racing ya self trynna chase the paper

Racing the fast track to nowhere, but the last laugh

When you let that nigga grab your naked ass

Drinking liquor and i'm looking for some hoes to fuck

My brain is fuckin racing shit i'm spacing like a plain nut

The way i'm racing around the track, call me nascar, nascar

I'm tryna better my chances of becoming a star

Time to stop the masturbation' and read a book so your brain can slow down - stop racing

Martin luther i must’ve seenmixtape, mix ya body with tapethat’s what that green’ll bring