This is a song about "Months"

Niggas talkin' greasy, i'm the one that gave them they chance

Now here i am three months later, full blown relapse

3 months ago i made a website to write raps,

But i don’t knock you i just blame it on your old head, rats

Ill give it 3 months before they all forget you existed

Maserati’s my birthright car, pass it, i need another hit

I treat bitches straight up, like simon says

Been months youd think id be over this

In 3 months im headed to boot camp, girls say im cool

After this eighth be high like out of middle school

Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket

Six months later you were begging me to lick up your carpet.

Backing up, like juvenile biggest fan was a moving truck

Two months later, i must say i was heavily love struck.

The months rent with all the moneys she spent

Optimism - wishin' make you too content