This is a song about "Magazine"

Just read a magazine that fucked up my day

I pray that i’m in outer space, ufo fly away

I guess these major deals ain't all they seem

Your career hash tag, a teen magazine

No more fucking cigarettes lit, no more stupid ass presentations and useless magazine ad bits

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

I'm god man i don't even have to breathe, but your ass must be satan cause you're actin mean

But look at me now, cover of billboard magazine, bitches scream wow, this nigga must have cream,

I wanna be featured in a magazine, this diesel, it be my gasoline,

Hostile with them hoes, i got a dollar in my pocket plus a dream

Every week nosy cunts reading a magazine

I got a dolla and a dream, real niggas on my team

If i don’t make it, then somebody tell my son screen

But the fame hasn't came 'til i'm on a magazine

I ride with them boys in the middle of the map

I used a people magazine as a blunt wrap,