This is a song about "I got my stealth threes"

The ball in my fingers. i be shooting threes outside all day with my hittas and i

Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bangsniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry

Check my letter i got christmas money,

And i got a little big, keep it low key

Self-hatred...i hate you...and myself

Came out of no where you can call that stealth.

I got got my pad and pen

My raincoat, and gold wrappers, amen

Well, i’m flyin' over, literally, flyin' over cities

Test me fool i leave you #threes with #ease im hot three hundred degrees

Because i see right through your disguise

I got two bitches my life,

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

The ball in my fingers. i be shooting threes outside all day with my hittas and i

I stand alone, i got my own uniqueness/

I never gave a fuck and that's what they love