This is a song about "Mac weaver"

Little man's disease got you feeling like you're little mac,

I didn't take my fucking ritalin, this is a hype track

I'm a dream-weaver, your night's mare n' the ringleader

She still don't know i made sarah to strangle her

Fuck around bought my bitch a mac

I don't want it on my back

When that money calls i holla back

They call me random black never squeezed a mac

No soprano, half black half white, i’m a piano

Niggas a star wove straight from weaver gitana

Damn i’m no good, but damn it’s so good

Then write another hook in my mac book

Now shining in the broad day light, go figure

White boi killing it on my mac miller,