This is a song about "Kinds of wave"

As fuck like its been sniffing all kinds of crack i got punchlines european

I keep my friends close, enemies closer, fuck both, i dont trust no one

That we picked up at the last concert

Susceptible to all kinds of hurt

Nah, niggas they dont wanna let me win

And start making all kinds of commotion

But i guess i'm just gonna make this fish stew because

But once i get the mic it's like i get all kinds of vicious

I got a massive wave like a crusade

And that was when i was in the eighth grade

The social workers here everydaynow brenda's gotta make her own way

Kinds of undercovers coming at me, perhaps he, won't be happy, til they

Problem is i shine like two mics under heavy strobe lights

I'm spitting kinds of wicked rhymes, know i've got the sickest lines,