This is a song about "Just a youngin tryna make it"

My shirt, purple label my shirt

Just tryna make my voice heard

Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts

Just me, and i ain't tryna to make no prank calls

Tryna make a dollar so i chop it to the fiends

This song about you, then you probably need to leave

Tryna make me vanish like they was a magician

We pray while we prey on competition

Where we can drink liquor and no one bickers over trick shit

They need a shovel just to make it out the door to get more of it

You just tryna make a mess while i'm already sweeping shit!

I said boss and i meant that; advance, you spent that

And young people tryna make a name got straight cred hate,

That involve ballpark franks and silver duct tape