This is a song about "Death of rap"

I'll hang you on a hook near the brink of death

With my semen and oppressed by my give a fuck less

Livin like a thief, runnin through the streets

This rap shit til the death of libertines

Of his death, such similarity

But make sure if they do see

I'm sick of seeing ghetto-grown kids who nearly fight to death,

Body holy water blessed, i'm feeling the stress

It lets u think and rest, never at the brink of death

Everybody coming home deserve a white benz

My criteria ain't even that serious

And now the chance of my death increases.

I stare in your eyes in your final moments of death

Eatin nubo dishes, with my soul food princess