This is a song about "Exist"

Hit the club and i let it fly, claim you balling nigga telling lies

Ive been to hell and back twice, luck doesnt exist whenever i roll the dice

Perfection doesn't exist if it doesn't consume her and the truth hurts,

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

Uh, every time i’m in my city, i be acting like my shit don’t stink

This ain't a trick bitch cause i'm the realist there is, to ever fuckin exist

I remember tripping, walking through the set like my glock don’t think

My whole fucking life gone in the mist stripped, the whole time god didnt exist

Extermination you don’t exist

Shout out to joe and chris, it's a.p on my wrist

Perfection doesn't exist if it doesn't consume her and the truth hurts

Take a shot at the excorcist then x em out with these words

If you think you can spit then i am the fuckin' dentist

I wish it wouldn't exist, the family always pissed