This is a song about "Mental abuse from dad clean"

How high? nigga, higher than the kites they fly

Producing tracks from the mental till i die

Manufactured substance that all you suckers abuse//

A photographic memory, i'm never gonna lose

Open vagina: put ya legs behind ya head

I would sleep blinded from fright, while dad was makin' some bread

Niggas hating but i love them even though they trying to scheme

Needing money he sold his daddy's ring, bold an mean so far from clean

Hes fucking insane, retartedly mental

So pretentious with no potential

Flapjack, ooh he bring

Abuse and trafficking

You wonder how it feels to walk a mile inside tha shoes

Cruisin in bottles, lottery tickets, and drug abuse