This is a song about "Hunting season"

The odds of you beating me is like hunting seagulls on safari/

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

I don't give a fuck either like father, like son, i'm done

The name just was beautiful as the autumn season

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

My reasons are preaches hunting on societys feeble demons

Without me for reason their would be no season

Niggas start listenin', and what i'm givin' them

At the bank of braavos is where i'm hunting funding

So now i show you off to the block no fronting

This is the season for noise pollution contamination

I can't take a big l, my city needs me, i gotta win

I'm on the run, keep running

Just for cash, they hunting