This is a song about "Imaginary numbers"

Numbers don't i see that?

There's crack, there's crack

Imaginary senses manifest in your motion.

Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin

The numbers unknown, hang up the phone

Real street nigga, ain’t no clone

I trust you, you're my imaginary friend

My levis, they 501, my snapback is hella bent

I ain't here to tell no stories or to bore you with a shit verse

Our debt is crazy because our money is just printed numbers

Pay attention, focus, dividin rappers like numbers in a quotient

Uh, every time i’m in my city, i be acting like my shit don’t stink

Proportions of the profit, runnin' numbers in a circle,

O.f. is the coldest thing, and i'm the fuckin' general

Pay attention, focus, dividin rappers like numbers in a quotient

You see coming up, we ain’t have that shit to keep our mind focused