This is a song about "Grant ciccarello"

My money quite loquacious, so commas riddle my statements

Spoken in tongues rappad is a clinic for shit rappers i grant the funds

It was my sick rhymes that made grant so ill

Dope enough to snort crack and sit the fuck still

There ain't no genie jars to grant what your petty wishes are

We can count the stars on the hood in your father's car

Interscope is my fam, so i ain't tryna make no issue

Grant me three wishes and i'll diss three bitches but first is you

Of a penance stare to a decadent to grant him death by recompense

And that's a better reason to for me to take advantage with sex

Got racks you don’t understand

Gillis-grant, the people chant

In pajamas i snuck out to watch santa

Grant my acquittal, a committal panorama