This is a song about "Jeff my bae"

My demeanor, thirty years my senior

Though she pop me low, lookin’ for dat beaver

And everybody's having sex

My wondrous success bombs my regrets

I’m coming back like light-skin and

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

She forget about her husband

My streaks my testament.

Something wicked this way come

My words are my rhythm

Nothing i'mma do is gon work

My shirt, purple label my shirt

To have my name engraved is my crave till my grave x2

And a nigga so fly i should be droved in jets

Right flows down and they might go nice

See my pain through my eyes,