This is a song about "Jacking of"

You wondering why she ain't fucking, we winning, nigga you lose

I can tell you carry purses and you’re always jacking tissues,

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Tryin’ to bag a brother with a super bowl ring

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

Africa and europe, it's a small world we truly neighbors

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

God damn it, i'm one hell of a guy

Cause i feel its right

Out of mind out of sight

As much as i wanna leave

Top of my pile of bodies