This is a song about "Hypocrites"

Playing my blues, while the hypocrites debatin' my views,

A photographic memory, i'm never gonna lose

Hypocrites must admit while i spit it makes your writ's like a pile of shit-

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

Whaddup hoops, tell them it was for the money

We're the hypocrites of our own blasphemy.

You hypocrites, call all y'all some fucking counterfeits

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

This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands

Rich hypocrites permit war on foreign lands

Y'all just a bunch of motherfucking hypocrites

And in akron, my niggas they would throw things

And hypocrites who think the same shit but don't say shit

Sippy cup full of whip creamed hot chocolate

To fuck all of you hypocrites

Now, nigga, it’s the prince