This is a song about "Jimmy fallon lexus contest on vine"

Nobody never gave me shit, when i got my first chain

It's not even a contest like exhibition game/

Take a look, to this bullet, now my finger slipped

Can't contest so he go leave to harvest

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

With presidential kush, my sticky on some jimmy carter shit

I'll come swinging from a vine, shooting two pistols

Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts

I feelin like the ?bob?, when he was on da fone wit jimmy.

But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see

Could he be weird al, could he be jimmy fallon?

But everybody is a g with the weed in them

My rhymes are brake lights on #late #nights, jimmy fallon,

I'm young, black, gifted, live my life on the run

In life she the wife who was right in that deep end

There ain't no stopping this, it is no contest