This is a song about "Deji diss track"

As soon as ya heard that track

I'm about to snap

I ain't done yet still spitting a track

Fourth quarter, that sack; fourth ward in all black

Spit a poem or a diss

I don't fiend for beef: i eat bitches

Like a racer in the track

The third one is mixed, white and black

Where the black girls get their weaves back

Cant you get rich off your own track

You aint back on track,your murdered on a track

Like my old prom suit that i wore with the tag

When love comes callin', don’t love back

And listen to this sick track

Getting lower than your diss track to k. brick in the battle,

With my muscle you'll be dazzled, but hustlin's a hassle