This is a song about "Dead relative"

Pitchfork doesn't need a plate

All you niggas dead , dead fake

One day a bed

Your raps are so brain dead

So if i do call it's just a check

In this rap game you must be dead,

Hit it then i quit it ‘fore she even made the bed

You keep continuing your gonna end up dead,

A clever idea to take something they said

But it's too late,fabiana is dead

That whatever it creates it will land in the head

But i can't kill somethig already dead

Give us this day, our daily bread

Believe me, i'm beyond dead

Do you want to end up dead?!

Like sally mae on college debt