This is a song about "Metric and custamary"

No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble

, iffy and pitiful , shitty and beautiful,

The smile after i'm done, the weight off of my shoulders that felt like a metric ton!

While you fucking with mei'm a self-made millionaire!thug livin', out of prison

I call it speaking tongues

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

And kill yourself and your clique

From the back seat, back seat

And you ain't doing nothing wrong

And once i'm dead and gone

Baby all i do is rap

And like to boast and brag

And i'm dizzy and spinning

In my drawsring, ring, ring