This is a song about "Guns drugs money depression"

I took my rap money and i went and brought some guns tho

You going to the club though, you soaking in sorrow

You caught me in a state of depression

Yeah my shit ain't no scratch and win

My depression hit hard/

Blasting out some backyard

Until then, my feet planted on the ground, shadowboxing my conscience

If you're black, you're always a thug, and you have drugs and guns

But i dont carry guns

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

It ain't where i been

Suicide depression,

Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks

Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs

My rapping moves on ,from the depression

My position improving, not to mention