This is a song about "Gran theft auto"

I'm after you bringing traffic through

Grand theft auto: vice city too

My bitches bad, these niggas mad, i guess it's just what the fame brings

You talk like grand theft auto when you're just swiping wallets

I cut my wrist and play piano cause i'm so depressed

And dad left, uncle is in jail for theft. yeah, we're fucking blessed.

Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed

I'ma make it hurt take a turn and call it dissatisfied theft

Theft of a man's chest it's like gangs test and exams

Matter fact i am farmer john milkin' cattle tracks

I just want to kick it, kick it for the rest

Went to the store and got caught for theft