This is a song about "Four eyes"

That sick set, tryna get my kickflips wet

I just went up four levels of rep

Four more tarts playing harps

Finish line with the tire marks

I hate rap like kramer hate blacks

Snapchats or four flats doesnt bother my cats,

Four more tarts playing harps

Please correct me, stretch marks

My visions that i record, the instruments i adore

Racing down rainbow road, on my way to the final four

And tell the doc you'd be dead at four

That's just the beginning of war

Biggie got shot too with four shots

And i'm still hurtin over pops