This is a song about "Hotel kid ink"

Fuck a deserted lot we throw parties at the hotel

Tap my partner roscoe like bruh, i'm drunk as hell can't you tell

I'd still be a nigga with no deal tryna get one

With that hotel bates swag just call me norman

Lucky seven probably poppa

Im chugging vodka in the hotel plaza,

Am i ever gone catch a wink, desperate need of ink

They get one season poppin', at least he's being honest

You other bitches sniffing my ink emissions

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

Hungry for more at my hotel room there getting cock feeding

If not i'm hoping that this letter could convey how i'm feeling

Nice hotel, nice weed, nice beer, nice ass

Stack in his hand trynna make that last

My pencil hits the paper, ink releases and spills,

Have you with professional killas, chasing hits