This is a song about "Im gonna really kill riff raff"

Death maps, in a lion's sense, alliances, are made by riff-raff,

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

We forgot about what really matters and just kill stragglers

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

Im gonna be rapping till im decomposed

Doing time in the pen and your gram's old

George bush got some nerve, fuck a war, we trying to serve

We forgot about what really matters and just kill stragglers

She say she want a diamond, lisa raye welcome to the player's club

And to the next nigga that step up thats when im really gonna blow up

While i ride this maserati, rick and his best friends

I aint gonna kill them off/ imma let em kill themselves

I'm gonna kill you, take ya last breath!

Clicquot for the girls in the tight dress

I'll keep on moving and tryna get out

Im gonna teach raps nothing without