This is a song about "How i am"

The dead society of a poet

But how long am i supposed to keep it?

How am i blind yet i can spot exactly where to drop some bombs,

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

How i am to feel about a white boy calling me nigga,

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla

Hit the pen and now no sinnin is the game plan

Look in my face see how broken i am

You need to hit the door, search for a new guy

But i aint got to be like "ay how sick am i?"

In case i don't get intell all my people i'm a ridahnobody cries when we die

After these, how can i hate that you're confused on who i am; when even more i

So superb but how am i eating your bars if this rap is getting you served

But after hearing mathematics he was water for my quenching thirst