This is a song about "Finding who you are"

She od's on louboutin, she work at that nudie bar

And let me remind you, i don't give a fuck who you are,

But really, who are you to be judging me?

Niggas fuck with your boy, i can make you some money

And the life i live is hell see, i never thought i'd see

Now who are you to talk about aeke, his attorney!?

To him, nothing is funnymind set on one thing, making his money

You are all just wannabe's who see me as a prodigy/

Nigga i'm a hundred miles far

Who do you think you are

Fuck cops, i'm a fucking rock star

It dont matter who you are

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing

Because man you better get writing, but there is still a feeling i'm finding

It's no wonder that you have trouble finding rhymes,

Penthouse on collins, money long as ocean drive