This is a song about "Master strike"

You're the servant, i'm the master.

That damier bag i bought her

Call me master splinter

Talk to the mirror

Blinding light/defining strike

Jungle fever for the night

Shy beau's beaux strike n scatter, dozen demure

I'm forever dope, you can check your schedule

Control the mind of yo master

I call her, no answer

So that don't even matter

Cuz im the female rapping master

Where weapons similar to dry grapes

Spheres of shadow strike the gates

I'm like fine art or a lyrical master,

Especially if you don't know what you fightin' for