This is a song about "My mcdonald s"

Shout out chrissy, rozay and all that

Get wit this 90's baby tupac shit

40's on the 20's with the stove top, i'm steady plannin',

Steady reaching for the stars, but it's only one

When i run b-town i got size 11's on my feet

Chrome lips on the forgi's damn near swallowing the street

It is breaking me down, no more friend around

Mr.ronald mcdonald face-painted clown on the ground

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

You say the words that can get me back in focuswhen i was sick as a little kid

The outline which you n****s out dated

And i give it to y'all, cause y'all respect that

.4’s for 15, yea my niggas we be taxing a lot

So you snap like mewhen these devils try to plot

You know they bangin' in the car harder than 808's,

With my semen and oppressed by my give a fuck less