This is a song about "Make out"

Spitting out the shit that make me sick

And whack hoes hatin' on key out in public

Pushing keys like them niggas that were banging on the keys

I take 'em out their misery, make it harder to breathe

But hows that gonna work out if you ain't tryna make moves?

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice

I'm make this choppa spit and make it come out her nose

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

I'm an ironic life instructor, make addicts out of people

Get a whole lot of you-know and she bald like an eagle

I know i have to get out and just make things right. (make things right)

Or that you could ever see me and you in another light

Run out of words write rhymes that don't make sense

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

You'll be lucky if you make it out alive

Pussy and patron that's some great advice