This is a song about "Grant gustin"

Loud pack, i propel. burgandy, out to kill

It was my sick rhymes that made grant so ill

Flow retarded, i need to wipe the slob off of every bar

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

Grant my acquittal, a committal panorama

We the motherfucking best, word to my mama

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

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

Avenue that avenue i'm doing more than just passing through

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

Ha, i'm super freaky, no top on the ghini, no flaw in my diamonds

Gillis-grant, the people chant

I just write that right by a mic stand