This is a song about "Digging my own grave"

This nigga jasper trying to get grown

Don't need u bitch 2 call my own

Aimin' at his partner who know he up next

To have my name engraved is my crave till my grave x2

Mabe you should hide dig our own grave,

I ain't looking in her eyes but her face

I write my own lyrics and i make my own beats

You know the common statistic inspired by hoop dreams

I need to be the center piece of my entire culture

My own pace, rocking the beat of my own drummer

Ringing digging singing

Boy, i’m doin’ my damn thing

I am my own father, i am my own brother,

I sell hot peas and butter, don't want to see you suffer

Come to d.c. and i can make you a believer

I, own guns, got my own arms dealer