This is a song about "Hits"

Jumped off the porch when i was like six

I need to get lit, toke a few hits,

Put the haters in vein choking like smoker hits,

Two bitches named tiffany i left them with a pair of kids

So here i am at the store for some chips

What did you expect, all i do is make hits

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips

Because all they ever spit, is shit about taking hits,

Fakers get used to shootin targets, soon as the dark hits

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

And we don't fucking make horrorcore, you fucking idiots

Animal instinct like hannibal lecter on crystal meth hits,