This is a song about "I dont need your number"

Now jordan iii my shoe, double m g my crew

I dont need to throw darts to purposely miss you

I ain’t gotta lie, they know i’m the truth

Im trash cuz im white i dont need proof

I dont need bitches, bitches flock at my name

Niggas taking shots, don’t know how to aim

See i dont need a rap thats pre

They gotta point em out baby

Little latasha sho' grown

Put my number in your phone

And i dont need your apology or sympathy,

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

Pad on the heel that's a passion of mine

If your number one then i'm number two since i'm

I am number won i'll bake you with my own son so die even your bitch won't cry

Just thanking the holy fatherhe made a star and shita youngin still ain't die