This is a song about "Keenan and kel"

And their mothers and fathers

All my real motherfuckin partners

Ima bosscall me ah a skinny rick rossflyer than a sworm of moths

Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,

Girl your body lookin’ like a fuckin’ pot of gold

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

Or like monumental mixtape of the moment

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

No days off and i ain't gettin’ sleep

And kill yourself and your clique

I can't turn back

And like to boast and brag

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

Forreal, i got a pole in the basement

I'm modest, and humble

And inhospitable,