This is a song about "I lack"

I've got a paper plane, it's propelling my buzz

If ya'll don't understand it i come from a lack of riches,

And goin' half on a motherfuckin' hundred sack

All the other trash ya rap about i betcha lack

Your bitch is the type of bitch that's gonna do you bad

I have a wicked mind that all you rappers lack

Can't win with a passive attack

Try to improve on all the things i lack,

Bring the keys, oh my god

Because the skills you lack…i got,

Spit that raw shit, y'all some talkative condoms, fall back

I have that sion flow that all you other rappers lack

Fuck what they selling, it's reality living in the mirror

And what i lack in piety, i make up for in character,

Lastly i gotta spit 'bout how you're at no lack of skills

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits