This is a song about "My clique"

My own unknown is my enemy,

I kill me just like you from the back you'll see

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

Got my head in my hands.

That is my wish, my fantasy.

On they twitter writing novels, see

And my clique make that dinero, so it's time to meet the fuckers

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

I'm the dream catcher but nothing but nightmares i caught, go to sleep

I am the realest rapper out and imma be rollin with my clique

Man you can't join my clique if you can't attract the chicks

'fore you love you a nigga, try loving your kids

My wondrous success bombs my regrets

Convertibles with turbo jets

The 2 man clique at the top, soon to drop

Uhh! yeah smokin yeah i should stop