This is a song about "Many"

Many wrongful truths, cults dissolve many converters

Yeah, uh, where's the love for the sixteen writers

I do too many drugs, and i have too many habits

Tired of sifting through my mail i feel like cartwright, bills

So i guess i’m good naira,yoruba love give em my love

Too many situations, too many people getting famous

But i murder him first

So many mollys i hurled

No matter how many tries

Inferior, but i'm nice

So many massacres, suiciders and arsonists

But once the smoke clears, you right back where you was

So many times i see

Lets come up to my city

Hey, must be the money

So many kids are hungry,