This is a song about "Miles"

Fulfilling voids of broke d-boys sellin' weed

Mic'ing few miles fitting the backstreet

Just remember: miles can't keep us apart

I'd rather have me no job than no heart

I probably go less miles, stayin in a smaller circle

So when i mention suicide, i'm being mr. literal

Flying right beside my eyes, got frequent flier miles

You see my lifestyle’s been nothing but lifestyles

Ill have miles davis come from the grave

Driving my car to a foreign place

500 miles push on the disc brake

Pitchfork doesn't need a plate

Who know this be the life that i really live

I'm fucked up and this fucking feeling like 8 miles,