This is a song about "I can t wright a rap"

He looked up at me like i was crazy, i said listen man

Yea i know i can't rap, but at least i don't act like i can.

I grew up with killas man, people who killed, man

I gesture when i rap you can call me a handyman,

You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three

E to the t, r-o-i then add another t

She blushed, the clothes came off, and i bust heri'm up now, ready to get drunk on the block

Hoping i can succeed on rap n' not a regular job, i was begging you, god

Or all them hot summers i was cooped up in the kitchen

Like a chick who can t cum if you cant write hot bars then rent one

Got a fuckin' blog that needs a post? i can get it done

I can rap for days and days, but i'm already a veteran

Coconuts ciroc where puff at, never fall in love, don't cuff that

I dont gotta have a beat to show these bitches i can rap