This is a song about "Dead beat dads"

But more less the vest i'm comin for ya'll neck

Beat her ass on the weigh in, bitch already dead

To beat or not to beat/

Cause they right down the street

That's equivalent, to the poison in a cigarette

I just murdered off this beat, man i guess it's dead,

Your flow sucks like vacuums / ill step in to your dads room

I am out of this world and you a man on the moon

Boom! now that she is dead

These jordan 4′s: check

We're filled with low-income toothless moms, nascar dads,

87, brick fare, yeah, i’m talking thirty racks

Give us this day, our daily bread

Even when my dreams are dead

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

But my dads a different story