This is a song about "How s don t got stile"

Flexin' hard nigga all the time

Your raps don"t even rhyme!

You don;t thin anymore

Lay ya ass down on god's green floor

The third one is mixed, white and black

Rat t-t-t-tatted up on my back

Tired of making money, i'm on to making history

Mocking dead fappers doin' others, they caught an s. t .d!

Damn i forgot how much money he got

We popping bottles, it don't stop

Nigga you got 2 learn how to rap

It's all good, finna dog that

Don´t try to fuck with me, i am the one who goes for the kill,

Or smoke some purp take a percocet and xanax and chill

Like i got an s on my chest i thank god that im still here hes my bullet

Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit