This is a song about "Hating my job"

My city's culture to the game now in existence

And through the years ive been steadily hating my peers

Fuck a cold sore, getcha getcha own cup

Hating my dad with passion for not showing up

I shoot you and kill ya homie, with the same damn nine

I do this as if its my job, i work all the time.

When slick rick was spittin la-di-da-digaming the hoochies at the neighborhood block parties, i remember

Finish the job and fill my trunk with the carcass and sever whatever's gonna hang over the fender

My job isn't done, too many faggots to be shown in this globe/

Then time rode, shawty trappin', plus she get it showed

Rapping that gabbage, attracting maggots

So fuck all them haters hating on my my spits

I summed it up in a verse my kelly rowland's waiting

In my room thinking why are haters are hating