This is a song about "Diss track roast"

You ain't working hard as this

Through the grapevine yeah they diss diss

And its your body i roast

And my regime includes east coast

Don't realize this is a diss

Clutchin’ on this lube and roses

Black foamposites, it's like we on that mobbing shit

Thinking its a sausage, he's ready to roast it/

I just light up and focus

Spit a poem or a diss

You aint back on track,your murdered on a track

Last straw, fuck that, i'm who broke the camel's back

Sit down, imma roast ya, free of charge, no cater

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

845 brick squad on the track/

May just gon' bring hobo back