This is a song about "Guitar lessons"

Restrained in endless lessons, where time is not a curse

I'm just tryin to get back, to what really matters

Bitch put the fuckin mic down go play a guitar

Wreck these thangs, have em looking like halle berry's car

Golf wang kill them all nigga, triple six

We be ballin' hard nigga, we dont teach lessons.

You on the ground restin,im a fucking killer teachin lyrical lessons,

Cry, die, tie, then sigh from relief from bottling up too much grief ever since

Your heart was false just like the words you said

Spun guitar strings, wrapped around your neck

I can play binary search better than guitar

A nigga thorough, she knew it before i bought her car

With lessons that have no meaning and too many false avatars

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

I'm at the top pulling the strings like guitar players,

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse