This is a song about "Growing up with a bad father"

But more than not, and with prolly a whole lot less than the start

I'm wearing up with questions n tests all done growing sick n retard

Nigga had a bad day, throw it up

Course not, i'm big like horse nut

Kids growing up to be little pricks

I.e. i get sick, white tee, i be kicks

Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket

I wasn’t broke growing up but let a real lyricist start shit,

There's no answer for it, these rhetorical lyrics

I killed a family, a mother and father with two kids,

Scum a disgrace to the father,

Something worth dying for

All teens growing up in tottenham lyrical geniuses all with their own speciality

B.i.g. said it; so i entertain like cedricstandin on the trunk roof top unit city

To bad dummy you ain't got skills to back it up with

But you been looking for love in all the wrong places