This is a song about "M killing all the rappers"

I make the whack rappers all shake in their fake j's

I’m a sinner, jesus christ, please forgive me for my ways

I was gonna write you a poem today

As to me all the other rappers are just clay

Stir up all these feelings inside of her

I"m the designated driver

I see all these rappers with the fortune and the fame

Got the fridgedest temperature on my wrist again

Mid-drift, turn on the switch, broke but killing rappers that are rich

That wasn't bullets, that was copies of bastard, you bitch

He watched house party, and ate apple jacks

You killing all these jacks?your from the racks

With 80 racks in my pocket, nigga i go in all night

I'm killing rappers and throwing their bodies aside/

Genocide, tell me what is all the killing for,

If you try to give it to me at the door