This is a song about "Dictators"

Knb bro fuck the haters, they traitors, tryna control you like they some dictators

Its either a bless or a curse, i cleanse the weak with a breath of my verbs

My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

How dictators stopping missiles sent me

Gotta get back to the d, you know we finally famous

Because it's the third world, those dictators are basket cases,

So you finally got the nerve

You fuckin dictators

Tell them to keep it running, i’m keeping the grass cut

Fuck the haters i don't hear em' they think there dictators but

And this world's mine, but the womb is hers

But i don't listen to no dictators.

Baby told me that she never memorized a verse

Im above the a-list for these great dictators

I know my shit better anyone on this damn earth, curse this place, it's worse

Knb bro fuck the haters, they traitors, tryna control you like they some dictators