This is a song about "I like your raps machine"

I know your raps are basic

Still listen to big

Dopeboyz hatin' but them faggots is a lotta talk

Bitch take back your raps before i eat you like poppycock

Like your a machine without a heart your working , like im talking , and telling you how i feel

And red alert was puttin in work, with chuck chillhad my homies on the hill getting ill, when shit was real

I be ahead of these niggas last king guillotine

I look into an alley and see the matrix machine

"listen to the track bitch!" echoes

Your raps have a limp like the 50 cent hoes

Like, "yo why are your raps so fucking sloppy"

But five years from now i bet she see

She like when i rap raps

But you don't have a chance