This is a song about "Learning to fly"

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

Something is burning my mind is turning but this guy's got to be learning

Bun b, i’m underground king

I think now you're learning

In the sky, telling birds to move it when i fly past

I'm from the tin shacks where mishaps get fixed fast

Aint no normal gal learning to rap

Moms really getting mad when i call you that

Lips, hips, hair drips down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy

Birds fly, do they fly free, are they locked to the earth knowing why she

Just to help me survive, or to help me stay fly

Letter to the ghetto, hold your head high

It's hard to have american pride when most of your money's made out of them lies

Observing every one of my movements learning, how to make me idolize/

Simply out of this world by choice

Us bitches are learning to run these boys