This is a song about "Don t even make sense"

Summertime in the city

Still doesn’t make sense to me

The sickest people couldn''t have even imagined

Auction coke to the coppers, glocks in the locker and

Morehaha, coming to a ghetto near you

Carlcee, lexiee, mindvoid, don, i'm not even through

So being in the kitchen whipping would make sense

Looking for dangerously hot bitches and safe sex

Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears

One day everything i say is gonna make perfect sense

I'm on deck i'm up next

It’s starting to make sense

Me i'mma still be a player, all day baby

Tell these people something they don`t know about me

Maybe in his vison, morals wouldn't make any sense.

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense