This is a song about "My g s"

Like i got an s on my chest i thank god that im still here hes my bullet

Something wicked this way comemore than an adversary i'm very quick

College degree, scores on my s a t, shit, please,

But now i'm pointin the finger at police

Alias, mussolinimentally unstable, "g" status

Your career are over like mary j bilge in rock of a-g-e-s

My balls mike tyson in the 90s

Carefree i don’t need the stress

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

And my posse they are with me so don't cry you shit g

I’m pushing that way where you came out as a baby

I'm wicked so my image makes me snoop d o g

This ain't a diss this is some real shit, i'll represent my color until i die g shit

You gotta keep your sense of humoryou gotta be able to smile through all this bullshit