This is a song about "Depression heartbreak death coffins and fake friends"

Well baby bot there ain't no question

From this pain and depression.

To increase my ends

Your family and friends

All these rappers complain about fake friends

I had dollars for a young’un ever had cents

Confusing what was real and fake;.

Pitchfork doesn't need a plate

I smoke the greenest of medicine till the government let us win

Allowing me to calculate and measure the depths of my depression,

And i got a girlfriend so i'm a keep lying until the verse end, fin

Dealing in depression, murder and lyrical impregnation

And other times i could only settle my depression with rapping,

For all the pedicures i've given to their camel toes they bring