This is a song about "Existential dread"

Torn emcees dread the skills of me

I’m a hustla, baby

But i'm losin' all my motherfuckin' friends.. damn!they should've shot me when i was born

No matter however your embittered being endeavours with dread, scorn

I'd still be a nigga with no deal tryna get one

Man i dread that through the dark nights like crimes of soft cotton

Get rid of the dread, tell em to forget what they said

You claim you a dog, my nigga, i’m the vet

And when i think back, i dread that moment and i hate the day

I got the cookie-cutter, mami the pepper spray

Insidious feelings of dread

Woo-hah, got you all in check

Like the olympics these youngins just won another metal

Paint a thousand pictures with a photograph/ that's existential/

You dread me like im haitian, get the fuck up out my face son

She got cold feet, my love will be the sun, get it done