This is a song about "I own you"

To each is own ,but tbh i can tell you where you went wrong

Nigga still tired so i'm yawnin, and now i'm gone

Lost soul, here i leave you, now i'm going on my own,

But i be like for real, just pick up that phone

I write my own lyrics and i make my own beats

Your bitch kind of ugly but she sure fill up them jeans

Cuz no matter what you do, i fucking own this battle,

Kill me with a chainsaw, and let my balls dangle

All she thinking bout is how to take his last

And laugh in your face as i beat you with ya own cast

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

I am number won i'll bake you with my own son so die even your bitch won't cry

Pull out the bong, that i own,

Stop blowing up my cellphone