This is a song about "Fake ass birches"

Talk about i'm a buster? you're just a fake ass sucker, wannabe usher, with a stutter.

If ya do upset metell the cops to come and get merip the crowd like a phone number

All you niggas dead , dead fake

I feel good, i look great

Went to sleep at seven never woke up from the dream

But it’s damaged by these fake-ass artists from the mainstream,

I had dollars for a young’un ever had cents

Yeah keep laughing, you and your fake-ass friends/

Now a nigga got baking to bake

I don't believe in bein fake

Niggas from where i'm from they don't fuck with fights

Enough is enough with your fake ass lines

You can think i'm a fake,

Of course they all hate