This is a song about "End carrer in one verse"

The winner in the end is the one you feed.

Cause i got a big fetish with the feet

Spit catastrophes and a master piece in one verse sounds absurd

Ain't heard a nigga thorough, it ain't perfect, but i work

I'm in a ferrari, racin', chasin' the end of the line, placin' number one

As i read every word that you write, i can only imagine

From verse one you can tell that i won/

So now she picks up the gun

One verse, one hearse, kill him off like the grim reaper/

As i coordinate the perfect feature

They cant take the shit in each verse

Half my peers, they're stretched for years

My densest frees are condensed in this verse

Where they cherish gangsters and not teachers

It's just me, in the end

Smoking khaled, my weed the best