This is a song about "Going to jail and mom leaving you"

Hit the block like a postman with mail

Ill kill you with no trail, no jail,

Money ain't a thing

And we try to keep going

Im going to lyricly destroy you

We use cakes to get by, by the dudes in blue

There you can play jail games and make some peace.

That'll do anything that i please

Weight stand out like pimples and cold-sore lips

Enough to make a jail where you throwin' your fits

Now she attentive, i bet she listen to everything

Just know when your mom says she going to one of her "personal healing",

And what fucking jail did i go to?

I was twelve when the gunned you