This is a song about "Fans"

The demands increase aswell as the fans

I hate rap like kramer hate blacks

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance

They ain’t rappers; they’re a rapper’s fans/

I done put them percs down, think i'm 'bout to relapse

And again i'm just speaking truth to all my many fans,

Two chains, two guns, he bipolar

My bars are bringing fans closer

From an african american stance

Chained as my slaves, my die hard fans

Really man? i'm just speaking truth to my many fans,

And dj's play my records cause i make the needles dance

Touring through the warmest cities with the coldest raps

Hoes be talking stupid when i know they really fans

But i don’t knock you i just blame it on your old head, rats

I'll then be reborn livin vivid in the chants of my fans,