This is a song about "Dimond supply"

Yo those dealers near your house don't supply no heat,

Fulfilling voids of broke d-boys sellin' weed

I be the godly demi who wants moore supply

Nigga i'm the shit, i've doing this since knee high

Shit, caught up in your perfect world, you never heard me cry

She knew he was her supply, thought it better than to lie

Supply an entire island of flies, or a botanical garden

Him attention but moms, yeah my momma as loyal as any sister would come

And niggas slippin if they think the fucking grip is a lie

This isn't a diss, this is just a reply to hip-hop's low supply/

Stepdad supply the weed, he the giver

The ice ain't really nothing to her

But i've got time to invest to supply some lyrical complex

She glammed up behind that eyeliner i know there's tears

Nowadays you look empty, ya love runnin on a low supply

Getting high, see the demons in my eyes, before i die