This is a song about "I beat you with my rhymes"

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

And i laid some rhymes for you on this funky gangsta beat

I stay short with my boys, kick facts an murder this beat with some sick raps,

Hop over, run backwards, with a knap sack of green supreme hats

And i don’t know why you fuck niggas can’t see

I will beat you red,cos your cute rhymes are killing me

Gator-toed mauri, three quarters, sky blue

You're like meth to my rhymes i give you

Can't seem to find a solid ground

I could beat you with my wrists bound

Told me mary was a go so we passed her round and round

I'll pistol whip you with my lyrics and beat you to the ground.

My rhymes are impossible to beat and are plausible

When i talk about money all you see is the struggle

I'll beat you with my bare knuckles and not even struggle.

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will