This is a song about "Death dreams"

So hold back ya tears

Grow older, closer to death.

Bury me while i try producing my dreams

Haters eyes gettin' wide like bench seats

They're pulling your sleeve, don't believe

Its differs, with options, killing of his dreams

Too much percussion and bass when i take beats

Is it normal to have lucid dreams

Right back on my feet, i swear i'd never leave

These other lil' niggas just sellin' ya'll dreams

What you getting is death

Spending her time with him i guess

Thinkin of the the dreams

I'm why baby mommas leave

I’m peeling wigs, killing pigs in my dreams

Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves