This is a song about "Diss track on a fat person called harry"

Niggas fuck with your boy, i can make you some money

Road kill grill on a track these rappers dead to me

But hey i'm not a person

Yeah, waiting for a change to come

Like you never get right? sort of like a black sheep

At a track meet and your tryna spit on a whack beat.

Ff-fuck outta here, thats how they gettin gas

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass

Yeah you know i got that work, women second, family first

As i wrapped a fat zoot commenting on my handiwork

Y’all rambling, talking shit to these bitches

Spit a poem or a diss

I couldn't and would never let you on a track bitch,

They vaguely decipher my language

But i'm jumping on this track for a major comeback

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat