This is a song about "I hate my parents"

Come close, catch a contact, i got a loud pack in my cargo pocket

Stood over my parents bed and i sware to god i would've did it,

Now i never did chores but of course my parents divorced,

Dopeboyz hatin' but them faggots is a lotta talk

Until then, my feet planted on the ground, shadowboxing my conscience

We can't relax, 'cuz i gotta help my parents fuckin' pay their bills,

My parents and family said i can't make it//

Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket

I hate you punk, in my mind you suck

And i'm strollin' down south like good luck chuck

Hopin' that my niggas see

My parents keep telling me

Yeah i'm a menace, god as my witness, with this pen i'm insane, yup

Tell my parents i'm just melodramatic, that i like to cause havoc