This is a song about "Evan fuller"

With a blunt filled up with some lime

I'm running out of time

Crooks with coolers filled with brews are colder

Two chains, two guns, he bipolar

Snatched, wrapped 'n' crammed in saran, shipped to japan,

Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bang

Thank goodness i'm a 'normal' white guy fully equipped

And older women put a nigga on their bucket list

You listenin' to her is leaving you with empty nights

Remember one thing, if y'all spittin some filler lines/

While they depopulate the crammed

Gotta try not to look fake in fact

This is something different

Yeah that tiny screen can get stuffed,

Truly get called a small prick by a bully who doesn't know you fully

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free