This is a song about "Labels"

Except it ain't via the nose it's from deep in my soul

Screw the labels, my crews get creative control,

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Labels giving me debts instead of giving me checks

Slapping labels on foreheads and recording excuses in tables

Every time she catch feelings she go throw away the gloves

Now watch me, walk away from labels repeatedly,

The game ain't pretty but i'm reppin' for my city

The minds of record labels

I can teach you all the sounds of love

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

Why would god put labels on his own creations

Why would god put labels on his own creations

She seen that geechi shit, ain't been to church since