This is a song about "False reserve"

Everything you spit is false, and you're also an accuser,

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

Multiple colors, my mind's more productive than others

Only god can judge me in this false world to whom i serve

Silver bullets, purple piff, blue pills, grey goose

They want the truth/ but false is what they prove/

Though my credits are slept, my ambition the best

All these false idols tryna lead us but its all pretend,

And you don’t understand my slang my colloquial’s lovely

Cant you see this is the real world now not a false reality

That you looking like an angel-sent from the heavens, god bless your every angle

Your false persona while i'm on ya baby's c "bbc" like the english channel

Look this the joint that could get me the spins

Told their false thirst for death dies in his absence/

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

False recovery, i can't be