This is a song about "I dont want to talk to my dad"

I hear them talk, and run back to my room, my dad checks up on my bed//

Them niggas all peaked, but you ain't seen a niggas limit yet

I really dont want you to become deranged.

You're in the kitchen trying to fix us a hot plate

Harder niggas try to hate me, they be lovin’ this side

If loving you is wrong, than i dont want to be right.

Most haters dont want to see you alive

Penthouse on collins, money long as ocean drive

I dont know what you want me to do,

I'm hoping that this letter reaches you

But i have the balls to say it all of you dont talk

Let em play with her box, she give the greatest top

I tried my best to be there when you wanted to talk

It's ill-advised giving hours to another broad

I want to live my way

Few chips, i get out n' spray