This is a song about "Dead whores"

My self esteem was like me, tall and full of flaws

Fucking these whores that want me to stay off

Chanel slippers on my bitches like you go love

Never meant to curse whores, with fierce verses

Pull up on a stark with enough white to kill a horse

That i don't, impregnate, one of these, young ghetto whores

Lord lord forgive us, personality clash

And smash whores, bangin' in the car like shaky bass

Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for

So bring all your whores, let me tell them the score

Wretches vex before tracks, so wrecked i bet the whores hacked,

Bitches check on my stats, women get too attached

When i'm fucking with these whores

I put these poems all in these songs

So stop braggin about cheap whores, you faker than storage wars

And shorty, you straight, bet you look way better without no drawers