This is a song about "Don t kill my rap"

That bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

I’m tryna be low key to keep my self out of t

I gave ya girl a t-shirt since she gave the whole crew neck

My scythe don blessed ya made a mess, much to your dread

Hop up in my t bird and just ride slow

Yo, i'm seventeen, already sniffing blow

Scoop pills, 5 g's on a phone bill

But,my raps scar and kill,

Feeling like these rap niggas ain't as real as they say

T get this paper so my get to see the holiday

They say tvd can´t rap but they are handicapped,

Celebrate the very day that she get past

I need to free them

I wouldn´t diss my own mum,

For that living large, but mama i ain't done yet

Kill kill kill that's my motherfucking mind set