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

One that doesn't end in psychotic rage,

That k o d a lil bit of change

Yeah, uh, where's the love for the sixteen writers

My densest frees are condensed in this verse

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

Spit catastrophes and a master piece in one verse sounds absurd

Now the first week sales can't hardly compete

The winner in the end is the one you feed.

But hey yo look, money from across the street

The winner in the end is the one you feed.

That i did it or put it in this verse

You little young-ass motherfuckers

They cant take the shit in each verse

We should fuck each others mothers

From verse one you can tell that i won/

After the club, gettin you open