This is a song about "Dog vomit"

And every nigga suddenly be rappin bout that trap shit

Sick enough to hawk vomit, on every inch of carpet

Choking on my own vomit like cinnamon

Bet your bottom dollar before i'm done

See you later, cause baby i'm a player, and all i heard was

Vomit, spew droplets, poppet on the prophet who claims a honest promise.

Then i vomit on your t shirt like it's mom's spaghetti

Sometimes you go stores and buy everything that you see

Sixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new shit

Boys were mean to him and swore at him and made him want to vomit

Vomit all on the drapes

We ain't playing no fucking games

While syd is telling me that she's been getting intimate with men

And mix the shit with guinness liquor, tonic, vomit, smack again,

Money on the floor, throw it on a broad

And control this shit yourself dog.