This is a song about "Fuckin problem"

You just don't like what i'm doing, the lyrics twitter my image

Pops had his flaws, had a fuckin problem and lost so much/

The law keeps stopping this problem kid

The shit is so bare, my diary isn't hid

If finding somebody real is your fucking problem

Fucking chin-checkin' punks 'til he's outta breath and done

I'm catching myself depositing these feelings she withdraw from

When hip hopping and steady dropping any nigga with a problem

I'm a son of gun

If you gotta problem

Yea i need buck thats my fuckin problem

There's nothin' like where i come from

They had a hell of a run

I know you ain't the fucking problem