This is a song about "End of the line"

The lack of one, but your first line fore told

I mean of course just the same old

Hit towns with coke, a .45 blue as chrome

The truth of my blood line is unknown

Four out of five try to fake and get serious

Over the last line of defense, run the ball like sweetness

She showed me affection like a drug dealer using her pocket for my protection

That last line i did just caused depression it ain't the end for me and aggression

Nah for you it's the beginning of the end

Outta town rapper, bitches love to hear my accent

With that gorgeous face, i don't know your name, it ain't important babe cuz i'mma call you mine

Bitch i got extras of supernumeraries, line after line features the exact same rhyme,

This is the end of my fucking song

J cole, don trip, drake, big sean

For half of the time, who's the mastermind behind that little line

And he's not fucking working, i think i'm wasting my damn time