This is a song about "Magazine"

I was gonna start diggin' into these niggas chest, right

Banana clip, with the magazine clipp to the side/

And guess who my nigga tell 'em is on the way

Just read a magazine that fucked up my day

I used to read word up magazine

Down in miami, with a super ho team

So i'mma talk about a little bit of that

I used a people magazine as a blunt wrap,

I live by the code: fuck bitches, love queen

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

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,

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

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

Your career hash tag, a teen magazine

Through the years tryin to stack a little green