This is a song about "Fucking cactuses"

But we dont fucking loose,

Its cold as shit in this booth

And my niggas say

My flows fucking cray cray

Fucking painting picture

Baby, you know who you are

Hoping that he's listening

And blast you with his fucking

Then you're fucking confused,

I must go like fly route

Fucking nonexistent as my fucking competition

Charlie sheen on them haters, they dont wanna let me win

No kids, no ring herd she do your own thing

Only fucking geniuses drowning

Let me rideuntil i get free

But you dont fucking see