This is a song about "Fuck you and your rhymes"

You was up thirty, now your down fifty

Fuck the streets, fuck you, and fuck your ethnicity

These haters hope i hurry up and die

And if you don't give a fuck, put your hands up high

I am not paying no motherfucking retail for purple label this summer

Tie your dumbass in the corner and make you watch as i fuck your former lover,

But you know women lieits like i sent my love with a text two times

One that you haven't experienced in your peachy little lyric rhymes

So much pressure in this life of mine, i cry at times

The chore is making rhymes and many times you fuck up about crimes

I’m a pretty dark person, i’ve though about ending it a million times

(starts at :16) okay drop bars fuck that i spit rhymes thatll destroy your fuckin rhymes,

Grab your bulletproof vest niggacause its gonna be a long one

Im killin you with rhymes fuck the weapons no need for smith and wesson,

And say fuck you to your parents,

Yeah, that ain't you love, you can't fool love