This is a song about "Didnt reply back to my texts"

Gotta try not to look fake in fact

To get that backpack back tacked to my back, packed

Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bangsniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry

One was my father, i didnt bother to cry, it was his fault it was his wish to die,

American dreaming, days of a heathen running up in your building at night

Thinking how to reply sinking further down i cant bear to see your plight

Yeah, uh, where's the love for the sixteen writers

On that battle section is a reply to my verse

Good morning texts from my girl and her friend bitch

Trying to give them light and a message

God calling the name but we didnt give a reply

Late night hangin out til the sunrise gettin high

But my dad didnt make it

A cold beast, nigga i'm the shit

Fuck it, they shrink to fit

Sent to a shrink, didnt do shit,