This is a song about "Funeral director"

Sitting in the bathroom expecting the director

She still don't know i made sarah to strangle her

I'm at the funeral cryin' heavily,

20 racks really thats sneaker money

At his funeral his mom was 9 days late,

You're in the kitchen trying to fix us a hot plate

Shorty been fly forever, these bitch's parachutes broke

The funeral for hip-hop, i'm aiming down the sniper scope,

With an impending mixtape that only seems like a myth

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

They blast for me and i don't roll with no atheist

At his funeral i pleaded how much he will be missed,

A fuckin' sausage fest will them shaky niggas get married then

Hop on the cable and watch your funeral on cnn

At a studio or your funeral, i'm still spitting multiple times

While you were playing playstation, my pencil was erasing lines