This is a song about "Grant ciccarello"

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

Grant my acquittal, a committal panorama

Throw him off the banister, shoot him on camera

It was my sick rhymes that made grant so ill

I'm gon remember her, but still

And i ain’t gotta say i’m fly, this g5 with the crew

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

Cause it'll never be the same hereso i wipe away the tears

My money quite loquacious, so commas riddle my statements

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

Gillis-grant, the people chant

Whether you rhyme slow or the beat fast